


Who needs 12 Days of Christmas anyway?

by HeartsandThumbs, MashiarasDream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Christmas, College AU, Fluff, Gratuitous Hamilton References, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, alternating pov, yes there’s mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-25 12:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartsandThumbs/pseuds/HeartsandThumbs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: Cas has finally told his parents that he’s gay. That promptly led to him being uninvited from the family Christmas. So he plans on spending the holidays on his own, grading papers. Enter Dean, who will not let this stand. No way will he let his best friend - who he may or may not be harboring a crush on - be alone for Christmas.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is completely written and will be posted in chapters until New Year’s.  
> Thank you to [tinnydandelion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinnydandelion/pseuds/tinnydandelion) for betaing!
> 
> BTW Cas' POV is brought to you by MashiarasDream, Dean's POV by HeartsandThumbs. :)

Seeing Dean always brightens Cas’ day. So when Dean comes over to him, wiping his hands on his apron and grinning at him, Cas can feel the first real smile of the day spread on his face without him even having to try for it. 

Especially since Dean’s grin seems genuine as well, and there’s a spring in his step like today is a good day. That isn’t always the case, Dean’s smile often getting called upon for the sake of making others happy. So having him grin freely makes the greeting that much sweeter.

“Cas, man, good to see you!” But then, Dean’s grin fades. “You don’t look happy. Too much cinnamon in the hot chocolate? I keep telling Charlie that not everyone is a cinnamon fiend like her but I don’t think she’s able to grasp the concept.”

Cas hadn’t thought his feelings would be so easy to read on his face. “I like cinnamon, Dean.”

“Well then, you just gotta explain what’s wrong I guess,” Dean says with another friendly grin and unceremoniously lets himself fall down on the chair next to Cas. “Spill. What’s up?”

“Don’t you have other customers?” Cas tries to evade. 

“Look around,” Dean makes a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole room. “Does it seem busy to you?”

It doesn’t. In fact, the cafe is much less crowded than usual. 

“Everyone’s either busy with the last assignments before Christmas or shopping Christmas gifts, I assume. No one’s got time for coffee.”

It gives Cas a stab in his heart that he’s sure Dean hasn’t intended. Dean can’t know how true in reverse his description is for Cas. Cas has time for coffee because as a TA he’s waiting for those last assignments to end up on his desk. And for Cas, there are no last minute presents to buy. In fact, there are no presents to buy at all. 

“Cas?”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to tell Dean how pathetic he is. “I’m fine, Dean. It’s just the Christmas rush getting to me.”

“Yeah, I hear you, man. Spent three hours yesterday trying to find better presents than the ones my brother’s gonna give. Gotta be wittier than him at least seeing how he’s smarter than me and all.”

Cas frowns. “Don’t say that, Dean. You’re a wonderful person.”

“Ah, see!  _ Wonderful. _ But not as smart as you or Sammy and we both know it.”

“That is not true,” Cas protests. 

“It is, too. I’ll never like books as much as you two nerds do.” Dean gives him an amiable nudge in the shoulder. 

But Cas doesn’t like it. Dean keeps doing that, keeps putting himself down. And it’s not Cas’ place to correct him but he can’t let it stand. “I had to ask my neighbor for help when I had to replace a seal in my coffee machine, you study engineering! Do you even know how lost I would be in that class?”

Dean chuckles good-naturedly. “Shoulda have called me, man. I coulda have taken apart and cleaned out the whole thing, made it good as new.” He blushes a little and rubs his neck as if he’s embarrassed about his skills. “So, how about you? Do you have all your Christmas presents together already?” 

It’s as subtle as a brick in terms of changing topic and Cas definitely doesn’t like this topic any better. “I have indeed,” Cas nods with a sigh. It’s not technically a lie, seeing how he doesn’t need to buy any presents at all. 

“Geez, Cas, could you look any more thrilled. What did you get them that’s so horrible?”

Cas grimaces because he has no idea how to evade that question. He sighs. “Nothing, Dean. I got them nothing. Because there’s no one to get anything for.”

“What? But aren’t you going home to Illinois like last year?” 

“No,” Cas shakes his head and tries not to let it show how much the thought of spending Christmas alone hurts. “Looks like I’ll spend Christmas grading papers.”  

“Cas! They can’t make you do this! You got a right to go home! You can talk to the dean and…”

“Dean, stop! It’s not the university.”

That shuts Dean up but he looks at Cas with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

So Cas gives in. It’s another crack in his heart but he says it out loud. “I’ve been uninvited from Christmas. On accounts of me being an unrepentant sinner.”

“What?”

“I told them that I’m gay.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Cas doesn’t really know what else to say to this, either. He shrugs. “It had to be done.” And it’s not like he hadn’t known that there would be consequences. 

“They  _ uninvited  _ you from Christmas?” Dean seems shell-shocked.

“They basically uninvited me from their lives,” Cas sighs. “Which, you know, was expected. That’s why - now. And not any earlier.”

“Because of your TA job,” Dean conducts. 

“Yes,” Cas nods, this part actually something he’s proud of. “I am finally financially independent from them.”

“So it’s not because, uhh, you had someone you wanted to introduce to them?” 

Cas looks at him with wide eyes. “Why would I want my boyfriend to suffer through Christmas with my family?” 

Dean blushes and shrugs. “I dunno? Because you’re serious about him?”

“Dean, the more serious I’d be about someone, the  _ less  _ I would want him to meet my family. Why do you think you have never met them?” He catches himself a second too late, the heat in his face probably meaning that he’s furiously blushing. “Or Charlie. Or anyone else of my friends.”

Dean’s face does a weird contortion, and it makes Cas’ stomach do a little uncomfortable flip. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. He did it because seeing Dean always brightens his day, but his emotions are so close to the surface today. He has to remember that Dean is straight.

“I’m sorry,” Cas apologizes. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey, man, no,” Dean shakes his head and pats Cas’ hand for a moment. “It’s all good. I mean, apart from the part where your family sucks ass.”

“Pretty sure they say the same thing about me. They probably mean it more literally,” Cas answers drily.

It makes Dean guffaw with surprised laughter, which in turn makes something warm and shiny blossom in Cas’ chest. He likes it when he can make Dean laugh. 

“ _ Not _ what I meant, Cas. So you’re really all alone on Christmas?”

“Me and a hundred papers on Hamilton’s defense of the constitution.”

Dean looks at him for a long moment, then he decisively shakes his head. “Nope, man. That ain’t working for me. We gotta change that.”

“Dean, I’d rather be home than spend money on flying to wherever you’re going to propose, just to be alone there.”

“Oh God no, we’re not flying anywhere,” Dean shudders. “We’re taking Baby. She loves the trip down to Sioux Falls. I got another shift tomorrow and they probably want me to come in Friday, but we can set out anytime after that, my classes are done for the year.”

“What?” Cas asks back flabbergasted. 

“Oops,” Dean reins in his original enthusiasm. “Got ahead of myself, huh?” He takes a deep breath. “So let’s do this properly: Cas, would you like to come visit my family with me over Christmas?” 


	2. Day 2

“Yeah, Sammy, really,” Dean repeats, trying not to sound annoyed cause he really isn’t finding any enjoyment in reliving this for what’s now the third time, “He really said no.”

Going over his feelings with his little brother is exhausting. Sam’s old enough now where their conversations have substance and feelings, and Dean should be grateful that he has that kind of relationship with his brother, but honestly, he kinda misses conversations about games or movies. He also misses when the focus was on Sam, and Sam wasn’t pressing Dean for things that Dean doesn’t always want to talk about. 

“Well, Dean,” the voice on the other end of the speaker starts. Dean braces himself for the incoming long speech, because, honestly it’s what Sam’s good at, even if Dean’ll just do what he wants anyway in the end, brick wall and all. “You know there could be a million and one reasons why he doesn’t want to come.”

“Gonna state the evidence, Sammy?” Dean says, trying to be playful and mock Sam’s soon-to-be career path in law, “Exhibit A: Maybe he has a boyfriend.”

“I dunno, Dean. He seemed pretty attached to you the last time I came up.”

Sam’s not wrong. He and Cas  _ do _ tend to gravitate to each other. They’re definitely something. But, they’re not  _ that _ . No matter how much Dean wishes they were.

“Anyway, it could really be anything…”

There’s a bit of hesitation in Sam’s voice, that pause before a long-winded speech about how Dean needs to be nicer to himself, and believe that some things work out. Dean’s heard it before. But, it’s easier to believe the worst. You don’t get disappointed that way.

Even so, he doesn’t believe the worst in Cas anyway. He’s not a psych student by any means, but he does know Cas. And while he can’t be certain, he’s almost positive that paranoia about a potential ‘someone else’ aside, this is coming from a familiar place. 

Dean’s all too intimate with fighting through things on his own, and not being someone’s problem. It’s been most of his life. Cas would never say either of those things. Instead, he’d said, ““No, it’s fine, Dean. I have my Christmas all planned out. Don’t worry about it.”

But he does worry about it, because he cares, and while independently dredging through things without help is kind of his forte, he doesn’t want that for Cas. So, if that’s the case, which Dean feels like it very well may be, he’ll just have to convince Cas that he’s not a burden. Should be easy enough, cause he isn’t. 

Dean gets comfortable, knowing Sam’s gonna be at it for awhile. He kicks off his boots, putting the phone on speaker and flopping down on his bed, staring up at a Led Zeppelin poster he’d taped above earlier in the year.

The other side of his room is kinda empty, but he figures he can probably start gravitating his things over there too. The other side of the room has been empty since last March. Dean likes it this way. He didn’t intentionally scare off his roommates, but it works in his favor that they left.

“Dean, did you hear me?” Sam accuses.

Guilty. “Oh, you’re still talking?” Yep. Humor is a cure-all. At least, Dean likes to think so.

“I said maybe you should just let it go. Y’know, respect his wishes.”

And really, Dean’s all about that, respecting Cas’ wishes. It’s why he’s kept the growing feelings for his friend bottled up for what feels like a really long time now. Thing is, he really does know Castiel. It’s almost embarrassing how well. It’s in the ticks: the way Cas was flustered when he’d said no, or the way he could barely meet Dean’s eyes. 

Dean isn’t about to let Cas sit alone in the darkness at Christmas. He’s just not. “I ain’t letting it go, Sammy.” It’s decisive, final. It shouldn’t come as a surprise. If anyone knows how stubborn he can be, it’s Sam.

There’s a sigh, and another long pause, “Have you told him yet?”

Dean kicks at the railing of the footboard a little, “No,” he admits, albeit a little grumpily.

He jumps at the sound of the next voice, which does not belong to Sam, coming over the crackly speaker phone “Aw, shucks, boy, you ain’t told him yet? What’s the hold up?”

If Dean were at home, he’d be chasing Sammy around the house yelling at him for putting him on speaker phone when he was talking about this. The stinging of a blush is now spreading over his nose.

“Hey, Uncle Bobby,” Dean deflects, “How’s life treatin’ ya, old man?”

Bobby isn’t havin’ it though. “Oh, no you don’t, Dean Winchester, ain’t no turnin this around on me. You ain’t got a reason to keep…” there’s a pause, and the emphasis on the next word means that Bobby’d been searching for the perfect word, “ _ Pining _ over that boy. Just tell him already. We’d love to meet him.”

Only, Dean can think of a thousand good reasons. If that’s not enough, his brain starts running them through a list: friendship, the fact that Cas deserves better, that Cas might already  _ have _ a boyfriend. He offers none of these things to Bobby.

And Dean would love to drag Cas to Sioux Falls. There’s not a damn selfish thing about it. Asking Cas to come home with him bears no ulterior motive- just that Cas deserves to be around good people, and Dean happens to know a few of those.

So, Dean doesn’t have an answer that’ll suffice. 

“Alright, I’ve got a chicken in the oven,” Bobby concludes, letting Dean have his silent victory, “and I ain’t no Martha Stewart, so I’ll hand you back to Sam. Call and let us know when you’re on the road.”

That, Dean can promise. “Yeah, I will. Tell Ellen and Jo hi.”

“Will do. We’ll set an extra plate for Christmas,” he says. Bobby may not really be his uncle, but they’re both the same level of stubborn.

Sam doesn’t give him even a moment to recoup. “Don’t you think telling him might be important, though? Might change his mind?”

Dean’s sure telling Cas would change, well, a lot of things. But, “It’s not about that. He needs family and support right now. He’s gotten all of that swept out from underneath him, and he needs to know that he’s still loved, and he’s still got family.” 

Loved. In more ways than one.

_ Because if nothing else, we’ll always have our friendship. You’ll always have something in me, Cas. Whatever you choose us to be. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. _

There’s some clanging and clattering in the kitchen and Sam’s quiet for a few moments, probably to make sure Bobby isn’t eavesdropping. Dean’s not worried about the state of the kitchen, cause Bobby’s a good cook whether he’ll admit it or not. Otherwise, Ellen’d kick him out of her domain like she does with pretty much anyone else.

Dean smiles to himself, his thoughts straying from Cas for a moment, and actually realizing that he is happy to be going home. He misses the chaos, and small doses of it are nice.

“Okay, Dean, I can respect that. But, as your brother, I gotta ask. Is it really that, or that you’re just not ready to tell him?” 

Dean opens his mouth and shuts it again. What is it with his family ganging up on him? Bobby, Ellen and Jo don’t even know Cas yet. They’ve always missed each other in visits, which are few and far between, even though Dean knows they do the best they can to come visit. Sam has met Cas though, and they get along well enough. They’re both a little nerdy, and get passionate about the things they care about. 

Still. How’s Dean supposed to answer that? Because it’s complicated at best.

He’s never been shy. Closeted for awhile, sure, but not shy. He’d even developed a reputation on campus in his first year for serial dating. He’d also nearly failed out of his freshman courses and ended up on academic probation. In retrospect, drinking and dating were maybe not the best ways to explore his newfound independence.

He’d been ready to pack up the car and head home. Cause, he didn’t belong here. His first year cemented a certain broken feeling, that no matter how far you go, you can’t run from your past, or from who you are.

His second year, he met Cas. Cute, dorky, strange Cas. 

He quit drinking his second year.

He made the Dean’s List his third. 

Because Cas had believed in him enough that he learned to believe in himself. 

And that’s why it’s complicated. Because he wants to tell him.  But, he’s never had a relationship, not a real one. And he wants the whole package. He wants to keep his best friend, and he wants the stares to mean ‘I love you’ and the accidental brushes of fingertips to end in held hands.

If it were that simple, he’d have told Cas forever ago. But Cas has the right to say no, and mean it. And Dean’s not ready for that answer. So, they can go on longer being just friends. Cause, Cas is good, and kind, and smart, and deserves way better than Dean. He knows that, and he’s sure Cas does too. 

And it’s selfish, and at the same time selfless.

There’s this nagging part of his brain that’s telling him it’s time. Time to face the music and find out if there’s anything more there. Because it’s getting serious to Dean. Enough that it’s gonna hurt if Cas really isn’t into him.  He doesn’t let people get that close. He’s never invited someone home to meet his family before.

His heart crunches in his chest a bit. It’s been long enough ago since Cas came out to Dean that surely, surely he’d have said something. But maybe it’s new. Maybe it’s all coming together for Cas, just not in the way Dean has hoped this whole time. A partner would explain why Cas’d tell his family now, right before the holidays. Financial stability and independence are one thing, but something that big, right before a holiday.

Then Dean thinks that maybe he’s been imagining the chemistry.  _ Can you even do that? Imagine chemistry? _

“Hey, jerk!” Sam yells with volume impressive enough that Dean has to hold the phone away from his ear.

“...Bitch,” Dean retorts instinctively. It’s their thing. That doesn’t make it any less obnoxiously loud. If he wants to burst his eardrums, it’ll be with Zeppelin or AC/DC, or the likes, thank-you-very-much, “Fucking ow, Sammy,” Dean grumbles, rubbing at his ear.

“Hey, Jody’s here. I gotta go. But seriously. Think about it. And, follow your heart, or...something like that.”

“Sap.”

“I’m not the one bringing a boy home for Christmas, Dean.” Sam mocks, but his tone softens, “Call later?”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees absently. He either will or he won’t, and it won’t matter to Sammy which he decides to do. For now, he’s relieved to cease the interrogation.

The line goes dead, and Dean rolls over, grabbing his MP3 player. Bobby’d gotten it for him as a graduation present. It isn’t an iPod or anything fancy, but it’s perfect for him.

Only now, not even the music helps, and he’s getting frustrated. He’s never been great at dealing with issues as they come. He’s always ten steps ahead, planning for what could be pulled out from under him next.

He knows he’s gotta ask again, but now he’s having doubts and can’t remember the look on Cas’ face either. Maybe he’s been misreading everything from the beginning and Dean doesn’t know the first thing about him.

He gets up and starts pacing. 

He’s wrong. Cas’ favorite color is green, because he’s a nature freak. His favorite food is  PB&J, which is super weird unless you know that Cas' strict parents had completely forbidden any junk food and Cas had never even had a PB&J sandwich until he'd gotten to college. Cas also likes his coffee with more cream than coffee, though he hates sugar in it. Something about his brother Gabriel and a prank gone wrong, which Cas refused to talk about in any more detail. And he knows that on D&D night, he’ll fight Charlie on being the healer, but he’ll always let her win and pick the Paladin instead.

Of course he knows Cas.

So the only thing left to do is simply try again.


	3. Day 3

It’s five minutes past the end of his official office hours when there’s a rapid knock on the door. Cas sighs. But then, even while he himself had always been a well-organized student, handing in his assignments well before the deadline, he knows that many of his students for various reasons don’t manage the same timely delivery of their papers. Cas gets it, too. Shifts want to be worked, parties want to be celebrated, Christmas presents want to be shopped for. That thought makes him sigh again because really it is pretty pathetic to have reached the second half of your twenties and not have a single person to buy a Christmas present for. 

Just then, the rapping on his door starts up again. Cas frowns at the impatience. “Well, come on in then!” The next moment, his irritation turns into surprise. “Dean!”

“Hey, Cas!” Dean smiles, though he also fidgets.

“What are you doing here? I’m pretty sure you’re not in any of my classes.”

Dean laughs nervously, “Nah, thank God I’m not.”

Cas raises his eyebrows. 

“No! No, not because I think you’re a bad teacher or because I think your subject is boring or -,” he apparently notices that he’s rambling because he blushes brightly and stops abruptly. He takes a deep breath and starts anew, “I’m pretty sure you’re a great teach, Cas. But I’m kinda here to convince you to come home with me for Christmas, and I’m pretty sure that would be all kinds of unethical if you were my teacher. Though if you want to keep on the bowtie and the jacket, that would be, umm, never mind.” He grimaces at himself. “Anyway, about that Christmas thing. Bobby’s already setting a place for you so you, you know, are more than welcome to come.” 

Cas has trouble following the whole babbled speech but he gets the punchline. Awkwardly, he pushes around the papers on his desk, reordering them to give himself a minute to think. He has both regretted it and was proud of himself to have turned the offer down. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s charity case, and definitely not Dean’s. In fact, that’s pretty much the last thing he wants to be for Dean. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean finally sits down on the chair opposite Cas. “You’d be doing me a favor, you know? Get some of the heat off of me, distract Bobby and Ellen, nerd out with Sam. And you know, it’s a six hour drive and I’ve been working a lot, so I’d appreciate someone helping to keep me awake.” Dean stops abruptly again, before burying his face in his hands for a second. “I’m overdoing it, ain’t I?”

And that is so  _ Dean  _ that it makes Cas chuckle against his will. “A little,” he admits. 

“I thought of all these arguments to convince you on my way over here and I wasn’t sure which one had a chance to work, and it seems like they all wanted to come out at once.” That blush on Dean’s cheeks is not going away anytime soon. Not that Cas is complaining, he likes the way the freckles stand out against the tinge of color. 

“Dean, I -,” he starts but then doesn’t know what to say. 

“Please, Cas,” Dean asks again and his face is so  _ hopeful. _

“Bobby and Ellen don’t even know me,” Cas argues weakly. 

“I’ve told them lots about you!” Dean immediately counters. “You’re practically family already!” 

It makes a weird twinge happen in Cas’ stomach. Being Dean’s family is better than being Dean’s charity case he guesses, but… “I don’t even have presents for anyone!”

“Easy,” Dean smiles. “We’ll just say my presents are from the both of us.”

Cas can feel his expression shift at the implication of them being a couple giving presents together, and he has to actively remind himself that Dean is straight and the implication is definitely  _ not  _ the one that Cas assumed for a moment there. So instead of commenting on that, Cas says drily, “Dean, I don’t have a present for you, either.” 

“Well, if you kept on that bowtie…” Dean’s eyes turn almost comically wide when he notices what he said and he claps his hand in front of his mouth for a second before clearing his throat and saying, “Umm, what I meant is, you don’t need to give me anything. I have everything I need anyway. But if you want to get me something, I got a shift on Friday as expected, so we can’t go before Saturday morning anyway. Means you have like two whole days to go shopping. How does that sound?”

It sounds - a lot better than spending the next few days watching everyone else getting into the holiday cheer, while he only cheers for the most creative take on Hamilton’s writing or the occasional sneak line originally written by Lin-Manuel Miranda in one of the papers. He should count it as plagiarism of course, but it makes him smile too much to care. 

“And your family would really be okay with this? I don’t want to be intruding,” he hesitates. 

But Dean’s face is already breaking out into a huge smile. “That’s a yes, right? You’re saying yes? You’re coming?” 

Cas is helpless in the face of Dean’s enthusiasm, so he can’t stop his face from mirroring Dean’s smile. “If you’re sure?”

“Abso-frikking-lutely! It’s gonna be awesome, Cas, you’ll see!”

 

Cas believes it, too, up until about an hour or so after Dean is gone, when the doubts come nagging at him again. He tries to concentrate on grading the papers he’s already gotten but when he reads the same sentence for the third time and still doesn’t remember a word of it, he throws his pen down in frustration. Leave it to Dean to distract him without even being here. 

Of course thinking that thought was wrong, too, because now Cas thinks about all the distractions Dean provides when he’s actually in the same room. Some of them are purely physical. Dean’s got a very nice face, made adorable by the freckles and the easy way he blushes, and made beautiful by the golden sparkle in his green eyes and the way he lights up when he smiles. He’s got broad shoulders, and an inch or two of height on Cas, which Cas can appreciate in a man. And he’s seen Dean in tight shorts before and it had been quite a challenge to not stare at the lovely shape of Dean’s ass.

All of that, Cas had noticed more or less immediately when they’d met all those years back. Dean’s a handsome person, there’s no doubt, so the aesthetic appreciation had been instant. All the rest of it, everything that’s giving Cas a heartache and second thoughts about this trip? That had come later, when he’d actually gotten to know Dean. 

It’s a cruel trick of the universe to make Dean not only this physically attractive, but also a kind, loving, down-to-Earth person, who has no idea about his own level of attractiveness - while also making him completely unattainable for Cas. 

Cas can’t even remember the last time he had any feelings of a romantic nature before Dean. He doesn’t fall in love easily, and since he never falls on first sight, always needs to actually know the person in question before they develop this shine from the inside that he feels a pull towards, timing is rarely on his side. People who find him attractive ask him out and then expect him to be into them immediately. When he isn’t, they drop him again. 

Well, most of them. There has been the occasional lucky intended pick-up that ended with a friendship. Cas whips out his phone and presses the dial button. 

“Woohoo, Cassie, what’s up? Are you in a holiday mood already?”

“I have a problem, Balthazar,” Cas answers solemnly.

“How fortuitous! Do you need me to beat someone up? I can bring all of my British friends. They love to beat people up. In fact, if I don’t find anyone for them to beat up by next week, I might be in a spot of trouble.”

“What? No!” Cas shakes his head. “Why would you think that?”

“Cause your voice has that kicked puppy sound. Really, I can have someone beat them up for you, Cas.”

“It’s rather the opposite of someone kicking me, Balthazar, and rather the opposite of wanting to beat them up as well. Dean invited me to his family Christmas in South Dakota.”

Balthazar whistles through his teeth. “Wow, Cassie! You got game after all!”

“That’s just it, I don’t,” Cas sighs. “I told him that my family has basically disowned me and he took pity on me.”

But of course Balthazar is not that easily discouraged. “Well, an opportunity then. Whole days to spend alone with Dean! Without that nerdy clique of yours and without having to stalk him at the cafe.”

“I’m  _ not  _ stalking him! I just happen to like the coffee.”

“And his face.”

Cas rolls his eyes but he reluctantly admits, “Yes, and his face. In any case, it won’t be days alone with Dean. It’ll be days of imposing on his family.”

“Oh, Cassie,” Balthazar’s voice is full of sympathy. 

“I just -,” but there’s nothing following after that. He doesn’t know what he’s just. 

“Okay, look at it this way. You get along well with his brother, right? And he’s a nerd, too? So what’s the worst that can happen? That you get to play board games with Dean and his teenage brother for a few days? Beats hanging out at your place alone, if you ask me.”

“Which is why I’ve already said yes,” Cas sighs. “I’m just - I guess I’m just afraid that if he’s being wonderful on Christmas of all times, that I’ll…”

“That you’ll spill your feelings for him?”

“Yes,” Cas agrees quietly.

“Don’t you think that might be a good idea? Just maybe? Cause you’ve been pining for  _ a while _ here. If you tell him, at least you’ll know for sure. And can maybe get over him.”

Only Cas doesn’t want to get over Dean. He doesn’t think he knows how. All the outright rejection will do is destroy their friendship and leave Cas hurting even more. And the fact that Balthazar doesn’t even pretend that there might be a possibility where a confession from Cas might have a different result than a rejection does not make him more hopeful either. 

“Oh Cassie,” Balthazar sighs. “You’ve got it bad.”

“You knew that.” 

“I knew that,” Balthazar agrees. “You wanna come home to Britain with me instead? I mean flights are going to be a bitch to get this late but…”

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “I already told Dean I’d go with him. Thank you for the offer, though.” 

“Anytime.” 

They’re both silent for a bit after that until Cas says, “I should go. I need to get a headstart on grading if I’m going to spend Christmas playing board games.”

“Okay. But Cassie, you know that you can call me if you need me, right? Don’t even mind the timezones, I’ll answer anytime.”

“Thank you,” Cas answers, trying to put all of his heartfelt gratitude about his friend’s willingness to put up with his whining about his love life  - or the lack thereof - into the two words. 

“Always, Cassie, always.”


	4. Day 4

It’s a little bit of a guilty pleasure that Dean actually  _ likes _ Christmas music. He stealthily drums his fingers along to  _ Jingle Bell Rock _ in his coat pocket as he scans the aisles for a present for Cas.

He’s meant to do this for weeks, but, work’s caught up with him, and he just can’t think of anything good enough. He knows what Cas likes, but that doesn’t require thought. Dean doesn’t want to get him anything he could get at home if his parents had decided not to be homophobic assholes. 

Cas deserves to feel special.  

Dean’s great at buying gifts. He’s already finished shopping for everyone else. He doesn’t make a ton of money at the cafe, so expensive gifts are almost always out of the question. It makes all the difference that he knows his audience, and he’s always been good at that.

Except now, he can think of at least ten things he can get Cas that’ll render at least a smile. None of them are  _ the _ thing, though.

He saw a nice sweater earlier at the department store that looked warm, and Dean’s been trying to get Cas a space heater for his office for ages. He’s surprised icicles aren’t growing on his ceiling. But, much as he hates it, Dean respects Cas’ ‘no’.

He eyeballs a small section with  _ Hamilton  _ CDs, shirts, posters and vinyl, before passing that too. Cas probably has a bunch of it already. Man’s got a freakin’ map of the US behind his desk, littered with outlines of important events. Nerd.

Besides, he doesn’t want to give him useful things, or ‘I think you’ll like this’ trinkets. He wants to give him something that means something. It doesn’t have to say, ‘hey man, I’ve fallen in love with you’; but, it should at least say ‘hey, I care about you. I see you. I value you.’ All those things, the important things, are true, and he doesn’t think he’s going to find those values in an FYE, even if he sees about ten CDs in the clearance section that would make a great addition to his own collection. 

He thumbs through them lovingly, refusing to acknowledge that they’re on $3 clearance because they’re getting old. The fact that Zeppelin’s  _ Song Remains the Same  _ album is in the bin is a travesty upon itself.

Man, there are some good ones on this album, too. There’s  _ Stairway to Heaven _ , and  _ The Song Remains the Same _ , and  _ Whole Lotta Love _ . Of course, Led Zeppelin II is a great album too, a frequent flyer in his room- and the song  _ Thank You _ is probably the most played of all, and his massive crush on Cas doesn’t ever help that fact. 

Even now, as he’s standing in line with a couple extra knick-knacks for stockings, he can’t help but half-sing and half-mumble to himself- “If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you...when mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me...”

It isn’t until his air guitar solo that he notices the people in front of him have vaguely turned, looking at him, and that’s nothing compared to the confused look from the couple behind him. He feels his face heating up  _ again  _ before he incoherently mumbles, “People just don’t appreciate good music anymore.”

_ Cas  _ appreciates Zeppelin, and AC/DC, and Guns ‘N Roses, even if they’re not his favorites. Hell, he could probably even appreciate the long-standing tradition of singing along to Queen’s  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ on road trips. 

His stomach jumps a little. He guesses he’ll find that one out, and soon.

The more he thinks about it, despite the constant swirling of nerves in his gut, he’s getting really excited. He and Sammy used to take road trips all the time. They were comforting, and the best talks were had with the cassette player down low, half asleep at two in the morning. He hasn’t had that in a long time. He’s never gonna bring it up to Sam, because he’s happy that Sam’s happy, and he’s just about as proud of a big brother as he could possibly be, but he still misses the road trips. Now they’re mostly taken alone, which he doesn’t mind; but it’s going to be nice having someone along for the ride again. 

Then it comes to him: what he’s getting Cas for Christmas. 

It seems like a good idea the entire way home, in fact, Dean’s sure of it until he opens the door to his room and begins digging through boxes in his closet from home until he finds his old ‘90’s boombox. He manages to set it on the floor and scatter the cassette tapes ceremoniously around it before his phone buzzes and he feels his heart exploding in his chest, as though he’s just been caught.

He opens his phone to see a gif of what he assumes is  _ Hamilton _ , and squints to read the little letters flashing on the bottom:  _ “It’s full of contradictions!” “So is independence.” _

Dean doesn’t get the reference. He does, however, resign himself to the fact that he’s gonna have to listen to the CD at some point...for Cas. He wants to understand all the things that make Castiel smile.

He looks back at the boombox, and feels a lump forming in his throat again. He chooses instead to reply to the gif.

_ Me @BlueEyes: Still grading papers? _

_ BlueEyes @Me: If I’m finished by January I’ll be lucky. They’re so bad, Dean. _

_ Me @BlueEyes: Not everyone’s a history nerd like you. :P _

_ BlueEyes @Me: You’d learn more going to see the musical than you would from these papers.  _

Dean’s not sure what to say to that, but after a moment, a picture follows. The name of the student and the class is blacked out for privacy, but the essay is intact. He stops after ‘Hamilton was a dope ass president…’. He cringes.

_ Me @BlueEyes: I’m SO sorry.  _

_ BlueEyes @Me: Hamilton wasn’t a president, Dean. _

Dean can hear the exasperation in Cas’ voice through the text.

_ Me @BlueEyes: I know, Cas, I know. _

He spends five minutes trying to find an appropriate gif. He settles for one of a monster patting another monster’s shoulder, saying ‘there, there’. Most of the ones he wants to send are too couple-y, and while he’d be totally fine holding Cas in a hug like the gifs imply, he thinks coffee may be more what the doctor ordered.

_ Me @BlueEyes: Y’know what...I’m bringing you some coffee. _

He looks back at the mess on his bedroom floor, and decides it can wait ‘til later. He uses Cas needing him as the excuse, rather than his heart pounding hard against his chest at the very thought of actually  _ doing _ what he’s about to do.

 

When he arrives at Cas’ office, he can’t help but wonder if the department’s made a budget cut with half of the school already gone for the holidays. Even with his coat on, it seems even colder than usual. Cas is sitting at his desk, nose deep in paperwork, and Dean isn’t sure, but it looks like the load might have doubled, because while the stack in Cas’ very precise ‘graded’ tray is definitely bigger, it doesn’t look as though the mountain of essays has gotten smaller.

He smiles when he hears Christmas music playing softly over the little radio that Cas keeps behind his desk.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets him without looking up from the paper.

Dean responds by setting down not only coffee, but Chipotle too, because, well, burritos. Took him a little extra time because he had to make damn sure they could barely wrap his before he deemed it perfection. With Cas’, he’s been a little more conservative. Cas isn’t the garbage disposal for food that Dean is.

“You know,” Dean offers, plunking down in a seat across from Castiel, rummaging through the bag, “You could be grading these in your room where it’s warm.”

“I’m fine,” Cas responds vaguely as he draws another line through a sentence. Green pen. Dean hates the green grammar pen.

“You’re cold,” Dean retorts, refusing to let Cas do that thing that he does, the one where he’s always ‘fine’, despite it not being the case. “Here,” he offers, thrusting his coat out with a little more force than he’s intended. He doesn’t want to give himself extra time to think about implications just because it’s  _ Cas _ wearing the coat, and not anyone else who happened to be cold.

“Thought that was what the coffee was for,” Cas says gently, with a half-smile, gaze dropping down to Dean’s coat, before back up to Dean, acquiring a soft pink tinge across his cheeks somewhere along the line. 

Instead of the coat, Cas grabs the coffee, taking a long drink, eyes closing in bliss, “Now, that’s not fair.”

Dean’s still holding the coat out when he asks, “Hm?”

“If you get my order perfect, I’ll have to start tipping you more.”

Dean blushes, because money is  _ not _ the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn’t want Cas’ money. He wants kisses when he brings Cas his coffee and gets it right. Like a boyfriend, not a barista. “Yeah, well, that’d be a change, ‘cause you don’t tip now,” he teases instead.

Castiel actually looks up from the paper, crossing his arms, and Dean watches the green felt tip brush across Castiel’s sweater, “Because you won’t let me.”

“Damn right I won’t. Though, it’s not a bad idea. You couldn’t yell at me if I used your tip money to buy you a space heater. I really don’t mind walking across the quad with you if you wanna head back to your room.”

“Roommate’s throwing a party, so here is better,” Cas responds, and Dean doesn’t fail to notice that he doesn’t mention the sentiment of a space heater. “I like the quiet.”

It hits Dean that they haven’t even unwrapped their burritos and that he’s being more than a bit distracting. “I can go,” he says, a little deflated, his ego quick to bruise.

Realization and then surprise creep into Cas’ features, “Oh, God, no, Dean. I didn’t mean that.”

Dean looks a little apprehensive, and like Castiel knows how to speak to his brain telepathically, he takes the coat, putting it on, and nothing needs to be spoken. Dean can hear, ‘I want you to stay’ and Cas doesn’t have to say a word.

It’s almost the same when they both realize that Cas is wearing Dean’s jacket, and promptly look to busy themselves with something, anything other than that fact. 

Cas is first to diffuse the situation, reaching into the Chipotle bag and pulling out a burrito, “Oh my God,” he says, gawking at the sheer size of it.

“That one’s mine,” Dean says hastily, grabbing at it and replacing it with Cas’ much smaller, much healthier bowl. 

Cas grins, “My coffee order and my burrito bowl,” he says almost sheepishly, opening the bowl and examining it, “extra guac too. Now you’re just showing off.”

Dean shrugs, “I’m a man of many talents.”

It takes them nearly a half hour to eat, because they keep getting lost in conversation about pretty much everything from the latest episodes of Wynonna Earp, to what classes they plan to take next semester, and even a little bit of talk about Christmas, which serves to remind Dean that he’s got some work to do when he gets back to his room.

When they’re finished, Cas looks reluctantly at the pile of papers, “Am I awful if I’d rather go watch Christmas movies with you, even if they are the boring old ones?”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with the classics.”

“There never is with you, Dean. I hate to, but I really should get back to these papers.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, before Dean nods toward the papers, “I could, y’know, help you if you wanted, somehow.”

Castiel laughs, “What do you know about Hamilton?” he teases.

“Uh…”

“That’s what I thought,” he answers, his tone playful still, “It’s okay, I’ll see y-.”

“I wouldn’t mind learning,” Dean’s quick to say, because he really doesn’t want to go just yet, and also wouldn’t mind lightening Cas’ workload. It looks like a lot.

That makes Cas smile, and he leans down, rummaging in his desk drawer before pulling out an iPod. He flips through it for a moment, before handing Dean the headphones.

“You can start here if you want,” Cas offers, and to Dean, it seems like an invitation to stay, and even in silence, that’s a good thing. He nods.

By the time the music gets to ‘ _ My name is Alexander Hamilton, and there’s a million things I haven’t done… _ ’ Dean’s grinning like an idiot in his seat...because while it isn’t his type of music... he freakin’ knew that Cas had the CD. He just knew it.

He looks up, and is surprised to see Cas is smiling back at him.

He listens to  _ Hamilton _ all the way through, without complaining once.


	5. Day 5

The first thing Cas does the next morning is check his bank account. It doesn’t look as woeful as it could, not yet anyway. Cas had, after all, known that it was a likely consequence of his decision to tell his family he was gay that they’d cut him off. So he had saved what money he could, exchanging his nice single room against the double with his party-roommate. A situation that needs to be changed again, Cas fears, or he’ll go insane. Maybe he’ll find some off-campus housing, an apartment that’s shared with roommates but at least gives everyone the privacy of their own bedroom. 

He opens the spreadsheet with his expenses. It very neatly details his spending habits. As always, his eyes get drawn to the line that says  _ ‘coffee shop’ _ . It really is a completely unnecessary expense so he has tried to cut back on the time and money he spends there. It’s just that it really is his only option of seeing Dean during their busy workweeks and he feels like the happiness that brings makes up for the expense. 

Now, though, Cas pencils in a new line.  _ ‘Christmas’ _ . He hadn’t budgeted for that at all apart from giving himself a food and small alcohol budget. Well, he guesses he can repurpose that towards gifts. It won’t be enough but it’s a start. Because Cas is absolutely sure that he does not want to visit Dean’s family empty-handed, no matter what Dean said. 

The thought of Dean brings warm fondness. It had been terribly nice of Dean to bring him coffee and a burrito bowl yesterday. And more than that, to stay in the cold university to keep Cas company. It hadn’t necessarily made the grading go faster, but it had definitely warmed Cas’ heart. 

_ ‘Coffee shop’ _ . Cas taps his fingers on his thigh. That expense column would have an even larger sum if the barista was anyone but Dean, who insists on Cas not tipping him or even on bringing him his coffee on the house. Both of which make Dean lose money, Cas is absolutely aware of that. Which makes it even more important to budget enough for Christmas now. Presents for Bobby and Ellen, Sam and Dean, and at the very least half of the gas money needed for the drive to South Dakota. 

It’ll cut into his savings and the money needed for a deposit if he actually changes to off-campus living but then, Ramen is a thing. And this is an existential expense now. 

He resists throwing anything at his still snoring roommate on the way out of the door and goes shopping instead.

Bobby and Ellen are easiest. Dean’s accounts of his almost-parents are vivid enough that Cas feels certain that a bottle of medium-good whiskey will be appreciated. He wishes he could buy them the really good stuff, but that is definitely outside of his budget range. But at least he has something for them that he thinks they will enjoy and that doesn’t clutter up their house. 

Next comes Sam. Sam’s nearing the end of highschool and according to Dean is already freaking out about his college applications. Because he wants to go to the best college on a free ride, because that’s the only way he can afford said best college. No pressure  _ at all _ . Though from the few times they’ve met, Cas can say with some confidence that if there’s one person who can do it, it’s Sam. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t help him in terms of finding presents for him. He’s gonna need help for this. 

_ Me @Charlie: Good Christmas present for Sam? _

Her answer comes 30 seconds later. 

_ Charlie @me: Cute guy or Dean’s brother? _

_ Me @Charlie: You know a cute guy named Sam? _

_ Charlie @me: Dean’s brother then. Comic books? He’s a nerd, right? _

And yeah, Sam’s a teenager and a nerd, but Cas has no idea about comic books. 

_ Charlie @me: Dean has the Dark Tower series. But afaik they don’t own Sandman. Try that.  _

It sounds like children’s programing on TV to him but he guesses it’s something to check out. 

_ Me @Charlie: Thank you. I’ll go by the comic store.  _

_ Charlie @me: Why are we buying presents for Sam anyway? We don’t even give each other presents.  _

For a long moment, Cas stares at the screen. If he tells Charlie, she’ll make assumptions. And she was Dean’s friend before she became Cas’ friend. It’s not unreasonable to believe that she will take these assumptions and run with them and in the progress make Dean regret ever inviting Cas. Then on the other hand, their friends will find out anyway. And Dean  _ has  _ invited him, this is not Cas’ fault. 

_ Me @Charlie: Dean has invited me to join his family for Christmas.  _

_ Charlie @me: Dude!!! _

_ Charlie @me: !!!!! _

_ Charlie @me: … _

_ Me @Charlie: Yes. _

_ Charlie @me: What are you getting Dean then? _

_ Me @Charlie: No idea.  _

_ Charlie @me: At the comic store in ten.  _

And so it happens that exactly 12 minutes later an out-of-breath redhead storms into the comic store while Cas hasn’t even managed to locate the Sandman comics yet. 

“Tell me everything,” she immediately demands, not even taking the time to take off her gloves before attack-hugging him. “I want to knoooooow.”

“There is nothing to know.” Cas pats her back, trying discreetly to shove her back a few inches. “I was going to spend Christmas on my own, he learned about it and invited me to join him. I said No, he convinced me. And here we are.”

“You said No, huh?” Charlie’s wide smile falls a little. 

“But I got convinced,” Cas repeats, not quite sure of the significance of the chronological order. “And now I need presents.”

“Okay,” Charlie says. “Okay. We got this. Come on, we’ll find Sandman first.” 

Cas is less than convinced that they got this, but he lets himself be dragged through the aisles by Charlie. At this point, he has little other choice. 

It turns out that there are a bazillion editions of Sandman but to his own surprise, Cas actually finds both the art and the storylines intriguing. It’s mythical and dark, and doesn’t have much in common with the superhero comics his annoying roommate reads. So he chooses a collection that doesn’t completely obliterate his budget and has the cashier pack it into nice Christmas paper. 

“Okay, what next?” He turns back to Charlie. 

“Dude, no way,” Charlie shakes her head emphatically. “I know Dean. He’s going to give you something personal. There is  _ no way _ I can choose for you what you should be giving him. Not unless you want the present to be a disaster.”

Cas can feel his face fall. Since Charlie had been so incredibly helpful with the first gift, he’d assumed she could help him out with the second present as well. 

“Okay, no, no moping. It’s almost Christmas! Let me invite you to something that is not coffee-based and we’ll brainstorm.” She makes a face at the thought of a coffee-based beverage, probably thinking about her job. 

“Alright,” Cas agrees and gets dragged off again. 

They end up eating frozen yoghurt with holiday-themed toppings. Cas has refrained from taking any toppings but cinnamon-applesauce and a few white-chocolate reindeers, but Charlie’s portion is liberally slathered in about everything the store had to offer. With an extra serving of cinnamon to round it out. 

“So, Dean,” Charlie comes back to their original topic once she’s eaten enough of the frozen yoghurt that the whole construction isn’t in danger of toppling over anymore. “What are your thoughts and ideas?”

Now Cas does in fact have quite a few thoughts and ideas about Dean Winchester, but he’s pretty sure they are not what Charlie wants to hear. “Something nice that is just for him,” Cas says the first halfway present-related thought that comes to mind. “Because he’s always there for us and for his family, and he never asks for anything in return.”

“Good start,” Charlie nods. “Give Dean something nice because he won’t treat himself.”

“And it needs to be on a budget,” Cas sighs. “I’ve come out to my parents.”

“That bad? Shit,” Charlie curses. “You have my commiseration.”

“Thanks,” Cas nods. “Though I actually expected it.”

“Is anyone still talking to you?”

“Not really,” Cas shrugs. “Tolerance has never been my family’s strongest suit.”

“Sucks though,” Charlie says. 

There is no doubt about that. “All the more reason to find an exceptionally good Christmas present for Dean as a thank you for inviting me so that I wouldn’t be alone.”

“Is that what he did?” Charlie asks with a raised eyebrow as if she’d expected something else. 

“Of course,” Cas confirms. “Dean is a very kind person.”

“Uh-huh,” Charlie looks doubtful. “You are aware that he can be kind of an asshole as well, right?”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Cas immediately defends his friend. 

Charlie watches him with raised eyebrows again and her smirk is suddenly back, “I see. So, we want something nice and a treat for our resident very kind engineering major and major nerd Dean Winchester, with whom you’ll be road-tripping to South Dakota for Christmas. Does that bring us any closer?”

“Yes!” Castiel jumps up as he has a sudden idea. “Yes, that actually brings us a lot closer! Come on, I know what to get him!” 

He’s too excited to even keep eating his frozen yoghurt, so he just drags Charlie through the mall until they end up at the central ticket shop. Cas looks over the rows of flyers until he finds the right one, snatches it and pushes it into Charlie’s hand. 

“27th Annual Auto Show and Oldtimer Racing Event,” Charlie reads out loud. “Oh gosh, yes, he’s talked about this thing, hasn’t he? I tend to tune him out once he starts talking about cars.”

“No, but, Charlie, this is perfect! I know that he’s been wanting to go ever since he started studying here! He’s saved up money for it every single year and then he’s used that money on Sam’s birthday instead  _ every single year _ . If I get him a ticket, he can finally go!”

“Dude, you’re not seriously planning to get him  _ one  _ ticket, are you?”

“What? Why?” Cas looks at her confused. 

For a moment, it looks like she wants to slap him over the head with the flyer, then she takes a deep breath. “You buy two tickets, Cas. And then you go with him.”

“Oh.” Cas hadn’t thought as far. “But I don’t know anything about old cars.”

“Well, all the better. Dean can explain it all to you all day long. He’ll love it. And you can just do what I do and tune him out. Well, actually, you can also do what I don’t do and look at the sparkle in his eyes and the distribution of his freckles or whatever. In any case, two tickets, Cas, definitely.”

Two tickets is definitely over budget, but Cas remembers the wistful look in Dean’s eyes whenever he saw the posters for the show in the previous years, and he really thinks that this would make Dean happy. So he nods determinedly and steps up to the counter to buy two tickets to an auto show. 


	6. Day 6

Dean’s eyes are open before dawn, and he’s staring up at his ceiling fan, listening to it whirr and click. He likes the white noise, it’s comforting, and while there’s definitely no going back to sleep, he doesn’t want to get out of bed just yet. 

But, today’s the day, and it’s kinda like Christmas in the sense that he’s fidgety, and excited, and nervous, despite it being stupid o’clock in the morning.

He sighs dramatically, bracing for the cold before flinging himself out of bed, blankets coming with him and pooling on the floor. He makes a run for the bathroom, complete with space heater.

He’s finished getting ready in twenty and he’s still got about an hour to spare before he’s supposed to grab Cas and head out. The logical and practical solution to make time pass is simply to go grab coffee. Cas definitely isn’t a morning person, so Dean’s sure it’ll be appreciated anyway. He just can’t seem to stay away from work, even when he’s off for the holidays.

It’s Charlie working the AM shift, as expected. She’s probably running on energy drinks, per usual, only to crash and sleep through the day. She looks up at him and rolls her eyes as he comes in. “Can I help you, Sir?” she asks loudly, gesturing to a completely empty cafe.

He lets himself into the back area and slings an arm around her shoulders, “Hey, Charles, old buddy, old pal.”

Charlie shoves him playfully, “What do you want?”

He’s already grabbed the milk and got the espresso machine running when he answers. “So...I happened to be out running errands yesterday,” he grins, turning off the steamer and  thumping the steamed milk on the counter a couple times to let the foam fall. “And I uh… happened across you and Cas?” There’s no making the statement subtle, and Dean’s too curious not to ask.

“Oh, so you were stalking me? That’s cute, Winchester.”

“Not my type, Charles.”

“Ooohhhhh,” she draws out, feigning surprise, “So you were stalking  _ Cas _ then.”

“...Shut up.”

“I definitely think I’m gonna keep going.”

“I had to go get wrapping paper. You guys were going into the comic book shop.”

“And?”

“And, nothing…” 

“You sure it’s nothing, Winchester? You sure it’s not that big crush you’ve got?”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but Charlie isn’t having that either, “Oh no you don’t. Can’t lie to me. I know you better than that.”

“Yeah, y’know, I’m starting to regret that,” Dean groans. He finishes Cas’ latte, and starts on a black eye for himself- coffee, black with a double shot of espresso. It’s his go-to road drink, though he feels like with Cas along he’ll probably have no trouble staying awake.

“Shut up, no you don’t.”

“Fine, I don’t.”

“So, spill,” she says expectantly. Dean thinks he’s off the hook when a customer comes in, but it turns out nothing deters Charlie once she’s got her mind on something. 

She comes back from making a hazelnut cappuccino, “Spill,” she repeats.

“Spill what?” Dean evades.

“See this?” she points at her face, “Do I look amused?”

“No, but I sure as hell am,” Dean jokes, grabbing his coffee and going to step out of the back. Charlie whacks him with a cloth.

“Oh no you don’t, Dean Winchester. Not until you tell me what your intentions are.”

“Really? My  _ intentions _ , Charles? Are you my mom now?”

“God no. Annoying best friend, maybe.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “I’m taking him to Sioux Falls, we’re having Christmas. Eating ham ain’t a crime.”

Charlie grins, “Are you gonna kiss him?”

It takes Dean aback a little bit, so his initial reaction is wide eyes, instead of the protest he feels like maybe he should be giving.

“You  _ are _ .”

“I’m  _ not _ …”  _ Not unless it’s what he wants. _

“Fine. You  _ want  _ to.”

Dean ponders that for a moment. He’s tired of fighting it, honestly. He does want to. Thinks about it a lot, even thinking about it now. “I want to,” he affirms.

Charlie lets out a long, excited squee. 

“But it’s not gonna happen, Charles,” Dean warns, “This is all about Christmas.”

She boops his nose, “I believe in Christmas miracles, Dean Winchester.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean can’t help but grin as he rolls his eyes. Charlie has the best way of either bringing smiles out of everyone she’s around, or pissing everyone off if it’s D&D. There’s a reason Cas never plays Healer. 

“Well, go! You’re gonna be  _ late! _ ”

Dean scoops her up into his arms, drawing her in for a tight hug. Their relationship is as dorky and sarcastic as they come, but Dean’s always loved her like she were his own sister, “Have a good Christmas, Charles,” he whispers against the top of her head.

“You and Cas, too.”

“I left your present in your locker in the back room.”

That ends the serious moment, and Charlie playfully shoves him, “I told you not to get me anything!”

“Yeah, I know, but since when do I listen? It’s just something small.”

“Get out of here,” she clicks, even though she’s grinning, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”

“Love me forever?” he teases.

“Maybe. But only if it’s a good present,” she winks, pushing him out of the back, “Goooo.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, he arrives in front of Cas’ dorm. Cas is already waiting outside, sitting on a small stone ledge, his legs dangling. He looks... miserable. Not good. Not what Dean’s been hoping for. He hopes it’s only because it’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t come up, and not the prospect of spending the next few days with Dean.

“Morning sunshine,” Dean calls, hopping out of the car, “Coffee?” He smiles, handing Cas a cup of morning cheer before taking his bag and shoving it in the trunk.

He notices a smile creep over Cas’ face for a moment, and takes it as a good sign, but takes pause for a moment anyway, “Roommate troubles? Trouble sleeping?” he pries, “Last minute cold feet?” he adds, hoping it sounds more like an afterthought than cause for concern.

“It’s not that,” Cas says, failing to answer the question appropriately, “It’s just...never mind.”

“You know, the car’s good for warming up feet, and hands, too,” Dean reassures, trying and failing to not think about holding Cas’ hand instead,  “We can stay parked for a little while if you’re still not sure. No pressure, you just look cold.”

Cas facepalms, groaning, “I’m so sorry, Dean, I left your coat in my room. I meant to give it back to you.”

Dean shakes his head, “I have another one,” he says, tugging at the brown leather embracing him, “You could’ve worn it.”

“Nah, this is nice,” Cas says, taking a sip of his coffee, which seems to improve his mood a little bit, at least enough that he steps out to get in the car, handful of presents in tow.

Dean’s arms jet out before he can fully process what’s happening. Next thing he knows, Cas’ hands are wrapped around his arms, and his weight is pressed against Dean, and Dean’s struggling to stand. He wraps his arms around Cas for balance and looks down to see his feet sliding against lost presents on the ice. 

“You okay?” Dean asks once the hazard of falling seems to diminish.

“Yeah,” Cas replies, looking up at Dean. They seem frozen there for just an extended second, before Castiel rights himself, and Dean mourns the loss of the extra weight and warmth, “Just icy,” he explains, grabbing up presents. “Drive safely.”

From anyone else, Dean would’ve taken it as an insult to his driving. From Cas, it’s laden with care, and Dean kind of likes that.

“Baby can handle it,” Dean says proudly, “You sure? You’re ready?” Dean asks one more time, resenting himself a little for giving Cas an out if he wants it, “No cold feet?”

Cas nods once, “Literal ones. But the heating in the Impala works, right? Then: No cold feet.”

 

The warm air feels good once they’re in the car, and Dean begins to shove a cassette into the player for the drive. It’s an unspoken rule: driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. Except, Cas had looked so sad. Even if it’s not cold feet, something’s definitely weighing on him.

So, instead of putting on one of the cassettes, he picks up the auxiliary cable from the system Sam had rigged together last Christmas to play music from his phone, handing it to Cas. He’d protested that Sam was ruining Baby, but now, it seems like a good decision.

Cas takes the cable, but instead of plugging it into his own phone, smiles, “Give me your phone.”

Panic rushes through Dean in the seconds it takes him to process the request. He’s trying to remember if there are any incriminating text messages about his feelings recently, or why Cas wants the phone to begin with.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says, trying to sound nonchalant as he drives off, even though he’s still trying to be nosy and see what Cas is doing.

But Cas opens the phone right to iTunes, and begins skimming through music, before deciding on Lynard Skynard’s version of  _ Run Rudolph Run _ . Dean grins, before he begins playing air guitar, and thumping along on the steering wheel.

Cas laughs. It’s a change from the frown from earlier. And it may be the most beautiful sound that Dean’s ever heard in his life. 

 

By the time they arrive in Sioux Falls, Dean feels good, because his concerns appear to be unfounded. Because once the caffeine showed effect, Cas turned happy and smiley, so he doesn’t seem to have cold feet after all. Maybe a little time away is actually doing good.

_ And _ , Dean thinks appreciatively,  _ He knows every word to _ Bohemian Rhapsody.

Dean thinks not for the first time that he’d like to keep Cas around. 

They’re gonna stay friends while they’re both at the same college, sure. But friends eventually go do their own thing. Find jobs in different cities and move away. Find partners and build families. Old college friends eventually are people that you send Christmas greetings on Facebook because you forgot to send them a card in time. 

Dean doesn’t want that for them. He just - he wants to keep Cas around. 

He looks over as they bump along the driveway. Cas has fallen asleep just fifteen minutes or so ago, his head resting against his jacket and the window. If they were gonna be on the road longer, he’d grab one of the spare blankets out of the back, but he’s got a feeling that the sleep ain’t gonna last much longer. He’s gotta make sure that Cas gets plenty of sleep while they’re away, so he can go back to campus after the holidays well-rested, and hopefully smile some more.

He looks so peaceful, and kind of adorable with his mouth open just a little, dreaming away. Makes Dean smile. He hopes they’re beautiful dreams, and selfishly hopes that maybe he’s a part of them too.

 

The peace and quiet only lasts moments once they’re home, because well, because Sam. 

The kid’s grown maybe a foot. Okay, well, maybe not that much- but holy shit. He looks like a giant moose, barrelling and bounding toward the car. Dean tries to get out fast enough to spare Cas the awakening, but he doesn’t fail to notice Cas already rustling as he climbs out.

“Dean!” Sam shouts, like he’s a mile away instead of two feet. Sam gives the best hugs. It’s just a little weird being the shorter brother now. 

“Dude, you gotta stop.”

Sam looks confused. Like it might be the hug, he pulls away, “Is this some sort of macho big bro-”

“No, not the hugging. The growing. Stop. Seriously.”

Sam grins, “I’ve been telling you for years I’m gonna be taller than you.”

“Yeah, well, you were pretty shrimpy.” 

Cas steps out from the car, looking a little groggy, and standing back a few feet.

“Hey Cas!” Sam says.

“Hey Sam,” Cas offers, rummaging around for presents, and luggage.

“I’ve got those,” Sam says, taking them all, “I’ll see you inside. It’s freezing out here. Oh, hey, Cas, I got some new games, if you wanna play later, when Dean’s being boring and watching old Christmas movies.”

“Hey-” Dean protests, “Those are  _ classics _ .”

Cas and Sam roll their eyes.

 

Cas stays behind with Dean while he grabs his luggage and follows him to the porch where Bobby’s waiting. Dean can already smell something delicious cooking inside, and he groans, mouth watering. Truck stop snacks have nothing on home cooked meals.

He greets Bobby with a one-armed hug, the other full of luggage.

Bobby slaps Dean on the back, grinning from ear to ear, and it’s infectious, and soon Dean and Cas are both grinning too. “Welcome home, kid.” 

Bobby turns his focus to Cas, “Nice t’meet’cha. You must be the Castiel I’ve been hearing so much about.” He reaches out, taking Dean’s presents from Cas, leaving him empty handed.

“Well,” Cas responds a little awkwardly, which isn’t all too unexpected, “I’m the only Castiel I know,” he finishes with a grin. He looks at Dean a little hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bite ya. It’s all good things. Come in,” Bobby chortles, “you can set your things in Dean’s room, upstairs on the right.”

Dean notices Cas is eyeballing the stairs and takes the moment to give Bobby a pointed look before whispering a little too loudly, “Where am I sleeping?”

Bobby shrugs, almost nonchalantly, “Figured you wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Dean’s heart drops into his stomach.


	7. Day 7

Even without an alarm, Cas wakes up at his usual hour, just around dawn. The bed he’s in is not his own. For a moment, he is disoriented, then he remembers, oh yes, Dean. This is Dean’s bed. More precisely, his twin-sized childhood bed that Dean had graciously given to Cas while he himself slept rolled up in a blanket on the floor. 

Cas rolls over so that he can see whether Dean is still on the floor. He is. But he’s not asleep anymore. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean grins sheepishly from his spot on the floor. 

“How long have you been up?” Cas asks.

“Uhh, a while.” Dean attempts a shrug but makes a grimace as his elbows and the hard floor are obviously not a good match. 

“You are uncomfortable,” Cas deducts. 

“Nah, it’s fine.”

But Dean has never been an extremely convincing liar. “No, you’re not,” Cas disagrees with him. “You’re hurting.” It comes out like an accusation.

Dean sighs. “Yeah, okay,” he admits and sits up on his improvised pallet. “It’s not the most comfortable ever. But it’s fine, Cas. It really is. How did you sleep?”

Cas frowns. He doesn’t like it when Dean deflects. “I can sleep on the couch tomorrow night.”

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “No, please, Cas. They’re gonna be drunk and up late and the couch is old and lumpy. I don’t mind having you in my bed.” He blushes the minute he says it. “Umm, and I liked talking to you before falling asleep, you know? I never quite got used to not having that anymore.”

“You had a roommate?” Cas asks, surprised. He hadn’t known that. 

Dean chuckles. “Sammy. I mean Sammy. Pretty sure roommates of the type you got don’t inspire any wistful moments of missing them.”

“Yeah not so much,” Cas snorts. “Pity he isn’t you.” The next moment he notices what he’s said, and now it’s his turn to blush. “I mean, only if we both had a bed obviously.”

“Yeah,” Dean mutters. “If we both had our own bed. Cause that’s how roommates work. Obviously.”

Dean’s tone is not exactly angry, but it’s not pleasant either. Maybe Dean is more unhappy about Cas taking his bed than he lets on. He has, after all, invited Cas. But maybe he hasn’t thought this through and has come to regret his decision. “Let’s switch tonight, okay? I’ll take the floor?” Cas says a little worriedly. He doesn’t have a car and he doesn’t have a way to get back if Dean decides he doesn’t want him here anymore. 

Dean scoffs. “You’re my guest, Cas. You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to share,” Cas says a little exasperatedly. “You have refused any other option.”

“We - what?” Dean shakes his head like he thinks he hasn’t heard right. 

“Share, Dean. Share the bed,” Cas repeats. “If that’s the only way to make you comfortable, we’ll have to do that.”

“I -” But apparently there are no further words following. 

“We’ll do that then,” Cas decides. It’ll be tight and Cas will have to make sure to not accidentally snuggle, but Cas has shared tight bunks with his brothers before, he’s confident that he can do it. “Should we get up? What are your family traditions for Christmas Eve?”

“Umm,” Dean looks at him blankly. 

“Is coffee a tradition you have?” Cas asks.

That finally brings some life into Dean, and maybe it’s not so much that he is annoyed by Cas, maybe he’s just not a morning person? 

“Yeah, coffee!” Dean agrees. “Coffee is good! If you want to go to the bathroom first, I can get the machine running?”

“Deal,” Cas smiles.

 

He’s not quite sure about the dress-code in the mornings at this house but he pretty much assumes that guests are supposed to be dressed in something that’s not their nightwear, so Cas takes the time to take a quick shower and slip into jeans and a sort of nice sweater before going down to the kitchen. 

“Hey there, Cas,” Sam is the first person to greet him. He’s wearing an oversized sweater with a moose on it, who has Christmas ornaments dangling from its antlers. 

“Stop harassing Cas!” Dean hollers from the other side of the kitchen island. 

“I was just saying hello!” Sam whines. “Dean is making us French toast.”

“Is he?” Cas asks and peers around Dean to get a glimpse of what he’s doing. 

“Sit down, Cas. Sam, bring Cas his coffee. He takes lots of milk but no sugar.” He turns halfway around to Cas, an apologetic smile on his lips. “Sorry that there’s no milk foam. This house is not as well equipped as the cafe.”

“It’s fine,” Cas shakes his head. “The only time I ever drink fancy coffee is when I’m coming to the cafe to see y- I mean, for a coffee.” He can feel the heat creeping back up into his face. 

Sam, who is carefully balancing a slightly over-full mug, grins at him. “Bet Dean’s your favorite barista, huh?”

“He is,” Cas nods. “He makes the best coffee.”

He means it as a compliment but Sam’s face falls a little. 

“I mean, not that I mean your brother is only good at making coffee. Dean is very smart.”

Dean groans. “Cas, please shut up. Sam has enough ammunition as is.”

Sam cackles, though only after he’s put Cas’ coffee in front of him on the table. “He makes it too easy.”

Cas frowns. “But Dean really is very smart. He can  _ build _ things. Complicated things. That use electricity. And that work,” he says with wonder.

Sam starts laughing and even Dean can’t help from chuckling. “Seriously, Cas, please shut up,” he repeats. “Just drink your coffee and think about what you want to do today.”

“Play Ticket to Ride with me! Or Last Night on Earth!”

“Trains or zombies? Your such a nerd, Sasquatch.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “What about Pandemic then? You liked that!”

“Yeah, cause no matter how much she tries, Charlie can’t fuck it up.” He puts the first French toasts on plates and slides them over to Cas and Sam. “It’s a co-op game where you have to save the world. Charlie gets invested.”

Cas nods sagely. Charlie tends to be chaotic good and more often than not whatever heroic action she plans in their roleplaying games fails spectacularly, nearly killing the whole group, but you can’t say that she isn’t enthusiastic about it. 

“But, my dear Sammy, I was actually asking Cas about his opinion. I know that you want to play board games, but maybe Cas wants to do something else. Go out and explore the city, not see your face for a while.”

“But Deeeeean,” Sam whines. “You only just got here!”

“What’s that, boys, early morning and you’re already fighting?” Ellen tsks as she enters the room. 

“We’re not,” Dean hurries to assure. “I was making French toast. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” Ellen says and pats Dean on the back. “But no cooking tonight, understood? You have a guest and I’m in charge of this kitchen.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Dean answers, a fleeting smile on his lips. 

Ellen watches him for a long moment as he’s already turning back to the stove, her face full of sympathy. Curious. But when she turns back to Cas, the expression is gone. Instead, Ellen sports a good-natured smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Cas nods, copying Dean as that’s his only pointer for appropriate behavior. 

“I’m Ellen. The boys know to use my name, too. Even if Dean every so often forgets.”

Dean flinches and mumbles, “Sorry, Ellen.”

“It’s okay. So, I need help with the shopping for the big Christmas feast. Sam?”

“Why me?” Sam whines. “Dean and Cas just got here.”

“And they’re gonna stay for a while. They will be much happier with full tummies, though. So will the rest of us.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam gives in, though he now pokes at his toast rather than eating it. 

“Good boy,” Ellen smiles. “Thank you.” She turns back to Cas. “So what have you two planned for the day?”

“Actually,” Dean pipes up, “if Cas is up to it, I kind of wanted to show him the river walk?”

That makes Ellen smile. “It’s beautiful out there this late in the year. Though it’s a pity that there’s no snow yet.”

“Better for Baby, though. She doesn’t like salted streets.”

“I’d say,” Ellen nods. “If you want Bobby to check her through, he’s already out back.”

“Nah,” Dean shakes his head and stacks the other finished toasts on plates. “I’m taking good care of her. I mean,” he freezes in his motions, “unless he wants to do an inspection. In that case…”

“Dean!” Ellen’s tone is sharp but only for a moment. Only until Dean looks up at her. “Bobby’s not John. He’d love going over her with you, but there will be no  _ inspections _ .”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I knew that,” Dean stammers and finally picks up the plates to set in front of Ellen and himself. 

 

It’s a few hours later by the time they make it out of the house. Dean runs a loving hand over the Impala before opening the passenger door for Cas. “Here you go, good Sir. Your carriage for the day awaits.”

Cas watches him for a moment. This Dean is playful and confident. Cas knows this Dean, just as he knows grumpy Dean and babbling Dean. He hadn’t known the quiet version of Dean with the hunched shoulders that he’d met in the kitchen with Ellen this morning.

“Thank you, most honored driver,” Cas takes up the silly tone, though he can’t stop from being worried. He doesn’t like seeing Dean flinch the way he did. Cas never likes the hints at someone having hurt Dean. At all.

But he isn’t quite sure how to approach the topic so he stays silent. Dean turns up the volume of the radio anyway, humming along to the rock versions of various Christmas songs. It makes Cas smile. It’s nice being able to just sit here and watch Dean, no pressure to talk, to have something witty to say in the few minutes of alone-time that you can get in a coffee shop. Which is most often what they get in time spent on their own without their friends.

“What is it?” Dean finally asks. “Do I have something on my face?” He self-consciously touches his cheek. 

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “No, I was just thinking how this is already so much better than sitting at the cold university grading papers.”

“I damn well hope it is,” Dean scoffs. 

But Cas doesn’t feel like deflecting right now. “Thank you for inviting me, Dean. It means a lot to me.”

Dean blushes and nods. “Come on, Cas, we’re here.” 

He brings the car to a stop. They’ve driven down to the river. There’s a single other car in the small dusty lot that marks the beginning of a hiking trail. 

“Probably someone walking their dog. There’s not that many people coming out here.”

“Is that why you like it?”

Dean kicks a pebble out of the way and hides his hands in his pockets. “‘S also pretty,” he shrugs, which Cas takes as confirmation that Dean comes here to find solitude. Which makes it all the more of an honor that Dean brought him here.

“Tell me about it? While we’re walking?” Cas asks gently. 

Dean shrugs, “You sure you want to hear it? ‘S not all that Christmassy.”

And Cas would assume that Dean doesn’t want to talk about this, only out of everything they could have done, every place Dean could have shown him, he chose this. “Come on. I want to hear it and I want to go on a walk with you.”

It still takes a while, Cas taking in his surroundings with curiosity, Dean looking around with a half-smile that indicates familiarity. “Let’s turn left,” Dean says when they’ve reached the river, “there’s an old mill down that way. It’s only ruins, but it’s not dangerous to climb around in it.”

“Was it your hiding place when you were younger?”

“Yeah,” Dean admits, even though he doesn’t seem to want to look at Cas when he says it. “You’ve seen Bobby’s house. Not really any space to be alone.”

“You had your room,” Cas points out.  

“Nah, back then I was still sharing with Sam. They kept it like that for a while, thought it would give us a feeling of security or something.”

“But it didn’t work for you?” Cas asks. 

Dean shrugs. “I just kinda - I didn’t fit in the same way Sammy does. Still don’t.”

Cas frowns. That’s not the impression he had at all. “Bobby and Ellen both seem to care about you a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I care about them, too. But they’re not my parents.”

“It’s different for Sam?” Cas guesses. 

Dean nods. “He and Dad, kinda never worked. But he took to a steady life like a fish to the water.”

“Steady life?” Cas had kind of just assumed that Dean’s dad had died and that’s why he and Sam had ended up at Bobby’s and Ellen’s.

Dean’s shoulders hunch as his hands disappear even deeper into his pockets. “Kinda grew up in motels and in the car, Cas.”

It is painfully clear how embarrassed Dean is by that. “My family disowned me, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “But you still grew up in a fancy house.”

“My family  _ disowned  _ me. None of my brothers even talk to me anymore. All because I want to love who I love. Can you imagine Sam doing the same to you? Cause I can’t. I’d take your family over mine any day.”

“Yeah, pretty sure my Dad would have been the white trash version of your family there. Don’t think he’d have ever tolerated if I…” Dean trails off. 

“Well, it isn’t a concern for you,” Cas answers softly because Dean’s voice sounds terribly fragile right now. 

“No. No, I guess it’s not.” It doesn’t sound like it makes anything better for Dean. 

“So,” Cas brings them back to the original topic, “how did you you end up at the engineering department?”

That brings at least a slight smile back onto Dean’s lips. “Bobby bullied me til I got my GED. I worked at his junkyard for him back then. He gave me enough money to get started with college in return.”

“That is very kind of him.”

Dean snorts. “Don’t let him hear that. ‘S gonna ruin his reputation. Come on, mill’s through here.”

They climb around the ruined building for a while, Cas much more careful than Dean, who wants to check every corner whether it is still the same. 

“Ah damn, the wheel house has caved,” Dean reports back after climbing down into the depth of the building. “Pity. Was my favorite spot, right next to the water and completely out of sight.”

Dean’s got plaster and dust in his hair from his excavation, coloring his hair white. Without thinking, Cas ruffles his hair to get rid of the stuff. It results in a dust cloud that makes both of them cough and then laugh. 

“Yeah, okay, that room is lost to the past,” Dean admits defeat. “But it’s still pretty out here, right?”

Cas looks back at Dean, his hair standing up in all directions now. “Yes,” he confirms. “Yes, it is.”


	8. Day 8

Dean’s been awake for almost an hour now watching the sun creep closer from the cracks in his blinds. His arm is asleep, and he really has to pee, but he doesn’t move. In fact, he scarcely dares to breathe.

Cas’ weight is nice on him. He’s not sure who’s the original culprit of the tangled up mess they are, whether it’s his arm burrowed underneath Cas, or Cas’ body gravitating into his warmth, but he can’t say he minds either way.

It’s warm, and Cas looks comfortable and kind of adorable, really, the way he’s sleeping somewhere between Dean’s shoulder and chest, mouth ajar, drooling just a little on Dean’s t-shirt. Every time Dean looks at him, he cracks a smile. It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle to wake up like this. He wishes more mornings could be spent like this, his bladder aside. It’s innocent. It’s beautiful- Cas is beautiful.

He’s still staring at Cas, when a loud and urgent ‘thump’ comes at the door, and Sam’s hollering at him like he’s five, “DEAN, WAKE UP, IT’S CHRISTMAS!”

For as practical and smart as Sam is most of the time, he’s still got days where he’s got all the joy of a goofy little kid. Dean would never deny his little brother any childish behavior, cause he’s spent years trying to give him what Bobby and Ellen have. He snaps himself away from his thoughts, realizing that Cas’ eyes are open.

There’s this moment Dean can’t really explain. It’s only a fraction of a second before Cas all but jumps out of his arms, but it’s all it takes. There’s this static, like a humming energy between them, and their eyes lock. There’s no blushing, no words, almost like a silent understanding. 

Of course that doesn’t last, like most good things, cause Sam’s still banging on the door like he’s gonna open it any second. Dean wants to say something, wants to let Cas know that the moment is there, and that it’s okay, and even appreciated, but it’s over before he gets the chance.

Cas is sitting up now, and Dean has to roll over to get Sammy to shut up, “GO AWAY!”

“BUT DEAN, ‘S CHRISTMAS!”

“I KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS, SAM.”

“Then get downstairs! Ellen says no presents till after breakfast, which was ready like…” there’s a pause, “...ten minutes ago!”

Dean grumbles, cause it’s not good timing and he wants to roll over and cuddle up with Cas again, but he knows Sammy, and he’s not gonna let up.

“DEAN!” Sam insists.

“I’m coming!” Dean half-yells, half-grumbles.

There’s silence for a moment, and then laughter. First it’s little giggles, and then an eruption of hard laughter. 

It’s so early it takes Dean a minute to realize why Sam is laughing, but it’s too late. Cas’ caught on first, and he’s lit up like Rudolph’s nose in about a hundred different shades of red.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean complains before throwing his pillow at the closed door.

All Sam seems to hear is the tail end of Dean’s grumbling, cause he responds, “Jerk! Hurry up!”

It makes Dean blush. Cause damn it, now he’s thinking inappropriate thoughts about his best friend who’d been curled up on his chest just a few moments prior.

“Sorry ‘bout that…” Dean tries to recover, looking back at Cas, who by that point seems completely lost in thought. “My brother’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know,” Cas says, pushing a little more space between them. Space that doesn’t go unnoticed by Dean. “I mean, it’s not like you’re gay.” 

It sounds muffled, almost like Cas didn’t want to say it. And oh.  _ Oh. _

“Cas, I’m bi.” It’s a quick and badly timed recovery, to blurt that out right after sex jokes. Dean’s not known for timing. It’s painfully obvious.

Cas’ eyes widen, and his blush deepens. It really brings out the blue in his eyes, and the contrast of his dark hair, “Oh…” he says in almost a whisper, “You never told me.”

Hadn’t he? He can’t remember. It isn’t something that he’s hiding, at least not anymore. Everyone important knows and accepts him. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t ever outwardly mentioned it to Cas. Things have always seemed a little tumultuous with Cas’ family, and he hadn’t wanted to rub it in. He knows how it feels to be jealous of other families only too well. He supposes it had really honest-to-god never come up.  _ Idiot _ , he scolds himself.

He’s trying to read Cas, because something in their dynamic shifted with the words, and Dean’s not sure at this point if it’s something good or something bad. He feels his stomach turning into knots. Cas is picking at the edges of his fingernails, and he looks just about as lost as he does when he’s grading papers, or watching a movie.

Dean can only take so much before he attempts to break the silence, “So, hey, we should, uh...get downstairs. Not to brag, but Ellen’s Christmas Casserole is pretty much the best thing in the state.” He offers Cas a smile, which at least has him looking up at him. “Earth to Cas, do you copy?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sounds great.”

So why does the smile on his face look forced? Not good. Dean stops himself from blurting out any other unwanted random facts about himself, like how he’ll try really hard to not let this change things if Cas doesn’t want them to change. He doesn’t tell Cas about how scary it was when he came out, or how he wants to have mind reading powers just to break through that still and silent wall. 

“So, we kinda have this tradition. We see who has the ugliest Christmas sweater,” Dean grins instead, trying to cut through the tension, “Winner gets first present. Mostly it’s just so we can laugh at everyone. It’s usually a tie between me ‘nd Sammy.”

Dean begins rummaging in his dresser. He’s bought a new one for himself. It’s somewhat of a patchwork quilt of various Christmas designs with a collar at the top. It’s red and looks somewhere between something a grandma would wear, and something a grandma would force an old Western cowboy to wear. Either way, Dean approves of the comedic value. 

For Cas, he pulls out the award winning white vest from three years ago, which is a little small for Dean now, which should mean it fits Cas well. This one has a fully loaded Christmas tree on one side, and a Santa on the other, with the words ‘I believe’. 

 

The first time Cas says anything is when they’re out of Dean’s room and halfway down the stairs. Cas’ hand is gentle on his shoulder, halting him. When Dean turns and their eyes meet again, there’s static, this time two soft smiles. “Thank you for telling me, Dean.”

The words and body language seem a little less foreboding, but Dean still can’t shake it that something has definitely changed. Before he can really assess, Sam and Jo are at the bottom of the stairs, impatiently waiting.

“Took you long enough,” Jo teases.

Dean’s grin is genuine. Jo’s been off doing her own thing too, even though Dean can’t keep track of whether she’s working or going to school, or both. She’s always wanted to do a lot, and is good at everything she does, but she’s got trouble deciding. Either way, it’s been awhile, and Dean wraps her into the tightest bear hug, all but forgetting the stress for a moment.

“You must be Cas,” Jo squints, sizing up the new person, all the while being squished.

“And you’re Jo,” Cas deducts, “Dean’s told me a lot about you.”

“Has he?” Jo questions, squeezing Dean back just as hard until he lets go.

“Yup,” Dean agrees, “Told him to watch out for the pain in the ass back at home.”

“So, you then.”

“Ouch. That hurts deep, Jo.”

Sam’s got what Dean and Jo call ‘resting bitch face’ as he leans against the kitchen wall. Dean rolls his eyes, “All right, Sasquatch, we’re here.”

Dean’s got a feeling Sam’s brooding again. He’s used to getting pretty much all of Bobby and Ellen’s attention these days, which is completely fine by Dean, cause he doesn’t like the focus being on him too much anyway. He’s also got the lingering feeling that Sam might be a little jealous of Cas taking up Dean’s time. They’ve always been a team. He’ll have to find a way to show Sam that Cas coming into the picture doesn’t change that. Nothing will ever change that. 

 

Breakfast is normal. Dean refers to it as ‘polite conversation’, but there’s nothing really ‘polite’ about the Singer household, so maybe ‘normal’ is the better word. Bobby’s drinking coffee, but Jo has a beer, Sam’s inhaling the casserole, and Ellen’s making sure they’re all eating enough and not rushing to get to the presents. Dean’s aware of all of his surroundings, but none more so than the fact that Cas keeps looking at him whenever Dean seems like he’s not looking back.

By the time they get to the tree, they’ve declared Bobby the winner of the ugly sweater contest, pretty much because the sweater sums him up. It’s decorated with all kinds of ornaments, and simply reads ‘Balls.’ It’s a no-brainer win.

The next win is that Cas has managed to pick out one of Bobby’s favorite whiskeys by sheer luck. When Ellen tells him, ‘that boy of yours is a keeper’, Dean doesn’t even deny it. He can’t, even if he wants to, cause that feeling of wanting to keep Cas around is back again.

"I'm sorry, Jo," Cas says guiltily, appearing to evade Ellen’s comment and handing Sam a neatly wrapped box instead. "I didn't know you'd be here, so I didn't bring anything." 

Cas looks as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Jo grins at him. "Oh, honey, you think they're gonna finish all that whiskey by themselves?"

Ellen gives her a pointed look, which causes laughter from around the circle.

Sam's spoiled and everybody knows it. Family doesn't have a whole lotta money, but looking at Sam's stash, it's clear that everyone wanted him to have a good Christmas before he heads off to college next fall.

Dean shoves a box into Sam's hands after he’s done fanboying over the comics Cas got for him. It's not an iPod, or anything to go into one of the moving boxes in the spare room labeled ‘Sam College’ that Ellen's insisted on accruing for him over the years, but it's thoughtful.

Sam tears through the paper, and pulls out a check. He looks up at Dean, and for once, the sarcasm and humor dials down, "What is this, Dean?"

Dean shrugs, "'S not a big deal. Just wanted you to be able to get a head start is all. That big brain of yours shouldn't get rusty. There are some classes at the community college that you can take over the summer that'll transfer to Stanford."

"Dean, I don't even know if I got in, I won't get the letter till April!"

"You got in, Sammy." Dean's sure of it. Cause Sam's smart, and he wants it more than most of the other kids.

And then, Sam's up, hugging Dean, and the attention's back on him, so he evades by rolling his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, no chick flick moments, little brother."

Truth is, he's been saving a good portion of his checks since he started working for that certificate he opened for Sammy. College is expensive, and Sam needs to worry about grades and life more than he needs to worry about money, and that shouldn't all have to fall on Bobby and Ellen.

Ellen’s looking at him again, like she’s trying to assess his intentions. When he and Sam had first arrived, he’d butted heads with Ellen a lot. He always liked her, and respected her, but taking care of Sam was  _ his _ job.  _ His _ purpose. It’d taken years for them to convince Dean otherwise. Even longer until they managed to convince him that it was okay to live without that purpose. That there was a life all for himself that he could pursue. And that they’d still be there for him, even if he has goals that have nothing to do with Sammy. He’s pretty sure his Dad would have seen that differently.

Every once in a while, Ellen will still softly remind him, like she had in the kitchen the other day. Dean tries hard not to flinch at any possible disappointment, but there’s unease in his gut until Ellen smiles, and hands Dean another present. She’s never been anything but good and kind to him, and Bobby too. He wishes he could just forget why he doesn’t trust happy endings, cause this family’s one and Cas, well, he could be one, too.

 

Dean watches the pile beneath the massive pine dwindle until presents are vaguely scattered beneath its shedding limbs instead of piled halfway up the wall. This is always his favorite part of Christmas, seeing the joy that comes with thoughtful and heartfelt gifts. It makes him feel warm, and like he did something right. He likes making other people happy.

The unfortunate thing about waiting until nearly last to hand the guy he likes a present is that by the time Dean works up the courage, Cas has already gotten a couple books, and a stocking full of candy (and the traditional Singer family lottery tickets), as well as some gift cards. He’s guilty of phoning in and making sure Cas has a stocking, not that Bobby and Ellen hadn’t already had one up.

Dean stretches, feeling the muscles in his abdomen clench as he reaches for the small and badly wrapped square box that is Cas’ Christmas present, finally mustering the courage to hand it to him, “‘S for you.”

Cas inspects it, and especially in light of Cas’ wrapping skills, Dean feels a bit self-conscious about his wrapping. It’s more tape than paper, and that’s  _ with _ effort. Odd-shaped knick-knacks usually get thrown before they get wrapped, cause Dean just doesn’t have the patience. But, with Cas’, he tried...even put a bow on top.

“It’s not much,” Dean tries to deflect the insecurity with the sound of his own voice. It doesn’t help that it feels like everyone’s actually paying attention now.  _ Fuck, it really isn’t much. It’s not something he can use or a gift card or a movie or something. What if he hates it? Who am I kidding? He’ll probably hate it. Maybe I can scrounge up some money and get him something better when we get back. God, what was I thinking? _

Cas is smiling the most radiant, beautiful smile, even as he tries to get his fingernails under the tape. Cas’ got all of his wrapping paper from prior presents folded neatly in tact next to him, so, when he can’t appear to find a way to neatly remove Dean’s wrapping paper, he rips through it- tape and all. It’s an oddly satisfying thing to watch. Dean often wonders what would happen if Cas let himself be free from expectation. He imagines the Cas he got in college was a lot more free than the Cas that had been raised in a strict religious household under lock and key. Still, seeing things like uninhibited ripping through gift paper makes Dean want to tag along for the many adventures that he is sure Cas will have once he lets himself discover the world. Being a part of that would be nice.

Once the wrapping paper’s torn away, Cas’ smile softens as he traces his fingers delicately along the rough plastic case of the cassette tape.

Dean’s intently watching, trying to figure out what Cas is thinking before Sam comes in like a bomb, “What is it?” he asks, inspecting before rolling his eyes, “Oh my god, Dean, who gives someone a mixtape? These things are ancient. I keep telling you about iTun…”

Sam shuts up when he realizes he’s getting a matching stern look from both Jo and her mother. Not that it helps. The damage is already done. Words often have too much power on Dean, and he takes them to heart. It takes a lot more effort to blow up a balloon than to deflate one, and Dean’s not so different in that regard.  _ I knew it. I knew it was a stupid present. _

His face must be contorting into some sort of negative emotion- worry, or lack of confidence, cause Sam looks sympathetic, and mouths ‘sorry’. Even with the disapproving looks, Sam doesn’t often say sorry. He’s one of those that tries to make up for it later with actions or presents.

“I think it’s sweet,” Castiel says. It isn’t the word Dean’s expecting, and he’s not sure what to make of it, but Cas continues, “Now I just need a boombox. I think the vintage store downtown sells some that play CDs and cassettes still.”

Dean  _ does _ know what to say to that. Knows what to say before he can think about any implications. “You could use mine. Or...we could listen to it together, if you want sometime.”

“I’d like that very much, Dean.”

And now Dean’s heart’s racing, and blood’s rushing so hard he wants to get out and run a couple laps in the snow. Because it’s an affirmative. He’s thinking about laying in his bed with Cas beside him, staring up at the ceiling together, listening to the best of the classics. Dean’d introduce him to Zepp, and Bowie, and AC/DC, and Aerosmith. 

And so, suddenly,  ‘Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx’ doesn’t seem like a bad gift decision

In the meantime, the others have started talking again. Ellen’s talking about something mundane, probably because she knows that Dean doesn’t like too much attention on him. It devolves into Jo wanting to open the whiskey immediately, Bobby agreeing with her and Ellen trying to haggle them down to the eggnog instead. 

But it doesn’t give Dean and Cas the moment Dean maybe wanted, because Cas sets the cassette down, pulls out his phone and begins texting. Dean’s heart sinks. It looked like Cas liked his present, but now he’s completely intent on his phone, cassette forgotten in Cas’ lap. Yep, Dean’s met his quota for good things for the day. He doesn’t deserve good things. Good things don’t happen to him. 

Just at that moment, a shy smile spreads on Cas’ face.

_ Yep, knew it. He’s got a boyfriend. Or someone he wants to be his boyfriend. I knew I crossed a line. I’m probably keeping him away from the one he really wants to be with for Christmas cause I kept begging him like an idiot. _

“Anyone important?” Ellen’s voice cuts through the negative thoughts tearing through Dean’s head. Ellen doesn’t like cell phones during family time, she’s a bit old fashioned in that way, and seeing as Dean didn’t come into this century until recently himself, he’s never minded. She’s polite enough about it to Cas though, he can’t be expected to know after all.

Cas snaps to attention, as though he’s been lost in the text for the last few minutes. Dean’s heart sinks-

“Oh! I’m sorry, Ellen. It’s just my friend, Charlie. She wishes you all a Merry Christmas.”

-and then swells.

Cause last Dean checked, Charlie’s a great human, one of his favorites- but she’s definitely a she. A very lesbian she, and Cas a very gay he. Charlie’s not some sexy doctor, or firefighter, or that Lin-Manuel Whatshisname...so, nothing to be afraid of. Again. Overthinking. He should probably check in on Charles later though, make sure she’s having a good Christmas, and enjoying the new game he got her.

“This one’s for you, Dean,” Castiel says, handing Dean a thin and precise box, wrapped neatly in green wrapping paper.

Dean takes it, “Nope, ‘s too pretty to unwrap.”

“Dean,” Cas scoffs, playfully scolding.

“Oh, alright, alright.”

When the paper is ripped to shreds, he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He’s staring at a ticket in his hand for an auto show. For  _ the  _ auto show.

He’s had his eye on the auto show for awhile, but something else’s always come up and it wasn’t something he  _ needed _ . Bills  _ needed _ to be paid, car  _ needed _ maintenance, and with the holidays and school, he’s not been able to convince himself that he deserves to go. He’s almost positive he hasn’t mentioned it to Cas. He’s already imagining the beautiful Mach Ones and sexy Camaros with their sleek, shiny paint coats when he realizes there are, in fact,  _ two _ tickets.

A grin spreads on his face. Two tickets. He can show all of the sexy Camaros to Cas! He take pictures of Cas and the sexy Camaros. Maybe of Cas in one of the sexy - He stops his train of thought before it can devolve any more. Judging by how hot his face feels, Dean’s blushing anyway. “Wow...Cas, this is...wow! This is amazing!” He examines the tickets, appreciating them entirely, “You sure you don’t mind going to an auto show of all things, though?” he asks after a minute. Never mind his own ideas that a day with Cas and beautiful old cars sounds like heaven on Earth, he knows that cars aren’t really Cas’ thing and that he doesn’t know the difference between a V6 and a V8. 

Cas looks at him quizzically for a minute, but regains his composure quickly, before smiling softly back and nodding once, “It’ll be fun.”

Dean stays skeptical, “Cas, what’s your favorite classic car?”

“Um. Well. Your Impala?” He sighs, “Okay, so I don’t know much. But I’d like to go and learn...I mean, if you want me to,” Cas blurts, gaining a little more red in his cheeks after every attempt at a complete sentence, “I mean, you can invite someone e...” He takes a deep breath, “I’d like to go with you, Dean. If that’s what you want. Besides,” he says thoughtfully, “You listened to Hamilton. Who’s your favorite president?”

“Uhhh…” Dean thinks for a second, “Obama?” He grins, holding up a hand in defeat, “Okay, okay, point taken.”

“Wait,” Sam says, “You did what? Hamilton, really?” Regarding Cas, Sam seems less surprised, “You’ll have to let me borrow the CD sometime.”

“Sure!” Cas agrees, “I brought it with me, I’ll grab it for you later.”

“Awesome!”

“...wow…” Cas finishes before he can stop himself.

“Nerds,” Dean concludes.

“Nerd yourself,” Sam bitches back. “Also, you haven’t opened my present yet.” 

“Yeah, okay, Sasquatch. Where’s your present?”

“Here.” Sam gets a square present from the small pile of remaining gifts and hands it to Dean.

“Alright, little brother, hope you got me something good.”

Though really, Dean’s  still a bit caught up that he’s going to an auto show with Cas, and that Cas might swing by his room and listen to music with him, when he starts unwrapping Sam’s present. So, when he absently unwraps a DVD, he doesn’t realize what it is for a few seconds.

Cas quirks his head, “Doctor Sexy, MD?”

Dean looks down at the DVD in his hand, feeling a blush first in his cheeks, spreading behind his ears and down his neck. He tries hiding the DVD behind his back, taking a precious second to eyeball it before he does because shit, it’s the new season and he hasn’t been able to afford cable in awhile.

“It’s Doctor Sexy,” Sam says loudly, “Dean’s got a huge cr-”

Dean’s on Sam in an instant, hand over his mouth, both trying to keep his little brother quiet and at the same time gauge Cas’ reaction. He’s almost certain Cas’ TV lineup is full of things like The History Channel and National Geographic. Probably thinks Dean’s an idiot for indulging in stuff like this.

“What is it?” Cas asks again, stretching out his fingers for the DVD, which Dean reluctantly hands over. Cas flips it and starts reading the back.

Dean’s mouth is ajar in horror, “What do you mean  _ what is it _ ?”

“Never heard of it,” Cas answers, biting through a licorice as he continues reading.

“C’mon, Cas, you can’t be serious. It’s a medical…”

“Drama,” Jo interjects.

“SHOW,” Dean corrects, “About these interns, and these doctors, and there’re these really fucked up cases, and lots of…”

“Drama,” Jo suggests again.

“ACTION,” Dean corrects again. He’s talking fast, like he does when he’s excited, “Oh, oh! And then there’s Doctor Sexy. He wears cowboy boots.”

“Why would a doctor wear cowboy boots?” Castiel asks, setting the DVD back down.

“Because they’re sexy! And he’s DOCTOR SEXY.”

He’s so intent on explaining his point that he’s released his hold on Sam, who seems to be sitting back and enjoying the ride, “Hey Dean,” he says smugly, “Your fangirl is showing. You’re welcome.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean says under his breath before continuing to explain the show to Cas.

“...seriously, it’s great! You’ll have to swing by and watch it sometime! I have the DVDs. I could pop popcorn, we could order a pizza, make a night of…” the words slow, “...it…” Everyone’s staring again, and damn it’s weird to be sitting around your family with your fictional crush and your actual crush.

“Well, don’t stop on account of me,” Bobby laughs.

Jo gets up, smiling and handing Bobby a present, “You’re the one who got him watching it in the first place. No place to throw stones, old man.”

“Yeah, well, who can say no to cowboy boots?” Bobby chuckles.

_ Right?  _ Dean thinks to himself, barely managing to contain the word, even though Bobby’s sarcastic. He’s had enough laughter at his expense today.

 

The living room’s clear, and Ellen’s making lunch, Sam’s listening to Hamilton, and Jo’s doing whatever she wants by the time Dean gets Cas alone again. The space under the tree’s empty now, just pine needles scattered about, and little pieces of wrapping paper the vaccum will have to get up later. 

“Sorry about the present,” Dean admits, still thinking about the tape, “‘S kinda lame.”

“No, it’s not. I love it, Dean,” Cas says, flopping down beside him on the couch. Makes Dean smile cause it’s a full flop. The kind you do on old furniture that’s part of a family like theirs. It’s not that half-ass polite sit as to not break furniture that’s covered in dusters. He always imagines Cas’ family in a white house with duster-covered furniture. “It’s classic. Very you.”

“It’s  _ ancient _ ,” Dean grumps, repeating Sam’s word from earlier.

“Did you record it yourself? Talk on it and everything?” Cas asks, and Dean hears the words, but feels Cas’ fingers twitch against his knee.

“Yeah,” Dean admits. Cause, what else is there to say? Cheesy as it is, he did. Explained some of the songs and the lyrics, too. Cause, it’s what you do. 

Cas smiles, running his hand up his own leg, almost nervously. It comes off a little weird to Dean because while Cas is a little awkward, and definitely an introvert, he’s usually pretty well put together. “I like that,” Cas says, softly.

Dean starts to respond, cause that energy is buzzing between them again. He looks up, meeting Cas’ eyes so he can gauge a reaction. “Cas I-” he says quickly, but shuts up as soon as he realizes Cas’ mouth is moving, too.

“-I like you, Dean. Like, like-like.”

Dean’s eyes are blown wide, and there’s silence. Silence and static. Silence and fire. Silence and sparks. Dean’s throat is dry, and so are his lips, and trying to wet them with his tongue doesn’t seem to help the words come out. “Really?” he finally manages. Because how, why? This is Cas. Castiel Novak. And he’s Dean Winchester. And...he can’t have heard that right.

“Really,” Cas agrees, a hint of nerves in his voice, as his hand ventures over enough that his pinky brushes against Dean’s, and it seems like an err, only, Dean knows how this goes- or at least how he wants it to go, and he’s not about to let it get away.

“Me too,” Dean says, the sound of his own voice assuring as he fumbles for Cas’ hand. Cas smiles, and then squeezes Dean’s hand before resting his head gently against Dean’s shoulder.

“We should probably talk about what that means.”

“...Yeah,” Dean says breathlessly, resting his head against Cas’. 

There’s clanging in the kitchen, and Sam’s singing Hamilton loudly upstairs, and they’re lucky to have a moment alone. But, the house has never felt more like home than it does right now.


	9. Day 9

**** They don’t talk about it. Mainly, because a minute after they’ve confessed  _ feelings _ , Bobby hollers for Dean to come help him with something in the garage, and Dean grimaces and apologizes but gets up. 

The rest of the day, there’s always someone around. Board games, food, drinking, it’s all done in a big group. Even now, two minutes past midnight, Jo and Dean are still fighting about whether the other one is cheating at their current card game. Cas watches it with a smile. His own family holidays had never been that lively. 

Like on cue, Cas’ phone starts ringing. He looks at the caller ID and freezes. The next moment he’s up and on his way to the kitchen, where all is quiet since Bobby and Ellen have gone to bed a while ago. 

“Hello?” He takes the call. 

“Little bro! You’re alive!” 

“Gabriel.” Cas sags against the kitchen counter. 

“Quick on the uptake as always, I see,” Gabe snickers. Then, “Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

“Well, it’s only a few minutes past midnight. That’s still Christmas,” Cas answers. 

“Yeah,” Gabe says. “Not what I meant, little bro.”

And to that, Cas has no answer. None other than, “I didn’t expect you to call at all,” at least. 

“Then you’re an idiot, Cassie,” Gabe says matter-of-factly. “Why didn’t  _ you  _ call and tell me?”

Cas shrugs into the empty air of the kitchen. “They gave you that loan for your pastry shop. I was pretty sure you didn’t want to anger them.”

Gabriel sighs. “I don’t. But Cassie, have I ever abandoned you?”

“There was that one time you left me next to a police station with a sign  _ ‘free to a good home’ _ when I was four,” Cas says drily. Gabe’s pranks started early.

Gabe chuckles somewhat guiltily. “Yeah, okay, touché. Though I made sure you were perfectly safe at any time with that!” For a moment, there is silence. “It’s fucking weird here. They didn’t tell me what was up. I expected you to show but then you didn’t and no one is talking about it. I had to corner Mikey to even figure out what happened.”

“Sorry,” Cas says. He doesn’t want it to hurt that his whole family pretends that he doesn’t exist, but it hurts anyway.

“You should have told me. I’d have come down to have Christmas with you. Doesn’t sit right with me, knowing you’re all alone in that stupid college town of yours.”

“But I’m not,” Cas answers, and that thought at least produces a small smile. “I’m in South Dakota with Dean and his family.”

Gabriel whistles through his teeth. “Is that so?”

“It’s not like that,” Cas immediately fends that off. Only, “Well, maybe it is like that. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

That makes Gabe cackle. “Oh little bro, are you in love? Cause you sound like a bumbling fool in love.”

Cas can feel the heat rise to his face. He bites his lip. But he kind of needs to know this. “What if I was?” he asks. “What would you think about that?”

“Cassie, I don’t give a rat’s ass who you give it up to. As long as they’re good enough for you. Is he good enough for you?”

“He’s wonderful,” Cas admits. 

“Awww,” Gabriel coos. “You really are in love! Do I get to meet him?”

“You’d want to meet him?” Cas asks surprised. 

“Obviously,” Gabriel answers like it’s the most self-evident thing in the world. “How about I try to make my way down to you sometime in January? Gotta try to time it before the Valentine’s Day rush sets in.”

For a moment, Cas is rendered speechless. Then his bottom lip starts quivering and he bites his lip hard to keep the emotions from spilling over. “I’d love that,” he says quietly. 

“Oh God, Cassie, stop it! I can hear you almost crying and you’re gonna make me cry as well and you know how much I  _ hate  _ crying. So, stop it!”

“Okay,” Cas says but sniffles anyway. 

“They’re gonna come around, Cassie. I swear. I’ll wear them down. But even if they don’t, you’ll always have me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Cas agrees again, nodding against the tears that threaten to spill. 

“Ah shit,” Gabe suddenly curses. “Mikey woke up. I gotta go. I’ll text you with the visit, okay? Oh and, Merry Christmas, little brother! Love you!”

“Love you, too. Merry Christmas, Gabe!” But Cas isn’t even sure Gabe heard that, the line goes dead so fast. 

He blames it on the eggnog and the fact that the holidays make everyone emotional, but a few of the tears he’s been trying so hard to hold back escape after all. Cas wipes them off his cheeks harshly. 

“You okay?”

He hadn’t noticed Dean showing up in the door frame. 

Cas nods a little shakily. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. That was just - it was Gabe.” And that makes another few tears spill over.

“Your brother?” Dean asks and comes a few steps closer. 

“Yes,” Cas confirms and smiles through the tears. “My brother.”

Dean smiles, too, then. “Well, at least someone in your family has any good sense. I’m happy for you, Cas.”

“Yeah,” Cas nods. “Yeah, I’m happy, too.” He starts laughing even while he’s wiping at the wet tracks on his cheeks again, because now that he’s said it, he notices it in its full impact. He’s happy. Painfully so. It’s not a feeling he’s used to. 

Dean smiles brightly at him and stretches out his hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

As soon as Cas takes his hand, Dean pulls him back towards the living room. All the lamps have been turned off, leaving only the lights on the Christmas tree to bathe the room in a soft glow. 

“The others went to bed,” Dean informs him. “So now you get to experience a Dean Winchester holiday tradition. Come on.”

Dean drags him over to the Christmas tree and then downwards. There, he lets go of Cas’ hand to be able to lie down on his back. He pushes himself forward until his whole head has disappeared under the tree. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean encourages him. 

So Cas mirrors Dean and slides under the tree, too. Immediately, he’s surrounded by the smell of pine, stronger than he’s ever smelled it. The tree itself glows even softer from here, a warm light that filters in a thousand twinkles through the needles, getting caught and reflected in the glass ornaments that decorate it. It feels like all the stars from the sky have come down to play with them. 

“It’s beautiful, Dean.” Breathtakingly so. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Dean says, his voice close.

When Cas turns his head to look at Dean, he finds that Dean is already watching him instead of looking up at the twinkling stars. For a moment, it makes him feel shy, but then he blindly reaches for Dean’s hand in the space between them. Because that’s a thing now, isn’t it? Because Dean said he likes him back. 

And in fact, Dean weaves their fingers together as soon as Cas’ hand finds his. Cas squeezes tight. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

“For what?” Dean whispers back. 

For inviting him. For showing him this. For letting him in. For liking him. “For everything,” Cas answers.

Dean smiles at him. “Right back atcha.”

It’s beautiful seeing Dean’s smile from this close. His green eyes are almost golden in this light, but they sparkle and look happy. Dean’s nose crinkles a little with his smile and Cas doesn’t think he has loved freckles this much before he met Dean. 

“Cas?” Dean asks.

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Oh. Uh, yes.”

And then Dean’s eyes are really close and then there are soft warm lips on his and somehow Cas can feel their tingle through his whole body, everything in him tugging at him to get even closer to Dean. 

And then suddenly he’s afraid. 

“What is it?” Dean asks when Cas abruptly pulls back. “Was that - was that not good?”

“No, that’s not -,” Cas shakes his head. “Dean, I - Dean, I don’t want to lose you. I don’t have that many people and you’re so important and -”

“Hey, hey, Cas!” Dean’s hand is on his face, grounding him. “Breathe, Cas. Breathe.” He takes an exaggerated breath that Cas copies once, twice, three times. Only then does he nod and lets his hand fall away from Cas’ face. “Now. What’s wrong? Why are you losing me? Last I understood that was not what was happening.”

That’s true of course, but, “Dean, I - I’m weird. Awkward. I like books and I’m not good in groups and not even my family is talking to me anymore - well, apart from Gabe I guess - and - and Dean, I - this,” he points between the two of them, “this wouldn’t be casual for me. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. Like, not from the beginning, because that’s not how it works for me, but - Dean, I don’t fall in love often. And when I do it’s - serious.”

“Cas,” Dean says, “this is serious for me, too.”

“It is?” Cas asks and hates how small his voice sounds. 

“God, Cas,  _ yes _ ! Of course it is. I invited you home to my family. I made you a  _ mixtape _ , for God’s sake.”

“So it does mean what Charlie said it means,” Cas deducts.

“ _ That’s _ what you were so intensely texting about?” Dean laughs and lets his head fall back on the wooden floor. “Gosh, Cas, you had me worried there for a second.”

“Worried?” Cas asks with a frown. 

“Well, you were all intense and then your face lit up in a smile, and for a second there I was sure you were texting with your boyfriend. Or someone who would soon become your boyfriend,” Dean admits. 

“Well, I was,” Cas swallows heavily, “I was texting  _ about  _ my boyfriend, maybe?” he asks. 

Whatever reaction he has feared this might produce doesn’t happen. Instead, Dean’s face lights up in another beautiful smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”

Cas couldn’t stop his own face breaking out into a smile as well if he wanted. “So, we’re - we’re boyfriends now?”

“Yes,” Dean nods fervently. “If you want that, too, then yes. That’s definitely what I want.”

“Me too,” Cas beams. 

And then, somehow, they’re kissing again and this time Cas doesn’t break the kiss but instead pulls Dean closer. 

“Ahem.” 

There’s a noise and an “owww” from Dean and then awareness slowly starts to seep in together with an acute pain in his back. 

The noise comes again and this time it provokes an angry, “Stop kicking me, Jo!” from Dean.

“Then get up already. No one wants to see you two sleep off your hangover under the Christmas tree.”

“‘S not what we’re doing,” Dean grumbles. 

“Well, I damn well hope you’re not  _ doing _ anything else on my living room floor,” comes Ellen’s stern voice. “Jody, Donna and the girls are gonna be here in twenty. So you better get your asses to the shower and find fresh clothes.”

That gets a groan from everyone and a, “Moooom! I did not need that mental image!” from Jo. 

Ellen snickers and claps her hands. “Up, up, up! Get moving, you lazy kids!”

Moving actually doesn’t sound all that bad because the more he wakes up, the more Castiel notices how terribly uncomfortable the floor really is. Still, he keeps his eyes turned to the floor as he carefully sits up. It is the tiniest bit embarrassing to have fallen asleep halfway under the tree. 

“Oh, to be young again,” Ellen sighs and then resolutely turns towards her daughter. “You’re coming with me, missy. You’ll leave the boys alone and will help me get the food ready for the invasion.”

Jo pokes her tongue out at her mother, and mutters at Dean, “Don’t think for a second that I didn’t take pictures first before waking you,” before finally following Ellen to the kitchen. 

“Ouch.” Dean stretches his arms over his head, a sliver of skin showing as his shirt rides high. 

Cas knows he’s staring but he can’t help it. 

Dean chuckles. “See something you like?”

“Umm,” Cas averts his eyes.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean nudges him in the side. “It’s okay.”

“It is?” Cas frowns because people always find his staring weird, and he doesn’t really stare at anyone else quite as much as at Dean. 

“Yeah, it is. I mean, unless I dreamed all of yesterday?” Dean’s voice suddenly sounds insecure. “I didn’t, right? That wasn’t just a nice dream that, umm, that we kissed and said we were boyfriends, right?”

Dean seems so nervous that it’s actually kind of adorable. “If it was, we had the same dream. Cause I seem to remember that quite distinctly.”

“Oh. Oh good.” Dean breathes a sigh of relief. “That is awesome then,” he grins.

“Yeah?” Cas asks. 

“Yeah,” Dean confirms. He suddenly starts laughing. “Cas? You know what?”

“What?” Cas asks confused.

Dean points towards Cas’ upper body and then his own, laughing hard now. “We’ve had our first kiss in ugly Christmas sweaters.”

And somehow, that had completely escaped Cas’ notice. Now that Dean mentions it, he smiles about it, too. “We did.”

“You know what that means, right?” Dean wheezes. “We’re never going to get rid of ugly Christmas sweaters ever.”

Cas blinks. “Ever?” he asks. 

That sobers Dean up. “Umm, as long as we… You know. Doesn’t - doesn’t mean  _ forever  _ obviously. I mean, not necessarily. Not if you… I mean…” Dean stops when his babbling doesn’t seem to go anywhere. He swallows and takes a deep breath. “I’d like it to, though. Last for a long time, I mean.” He smiles at Cas hopefully.

“Me, too”, Cas admits shyly. “Very much so.” And because the heaviness in the air seems too much right now, he adds, “Come on, let’s get ready before your family’s guests arrive.”

“Okay,” Dean nods and holds out his hand for Cas to take. 

Cas sends an unsure look towards the kitchen where Ellen’s and Jo’s voices are clearly audible. Sam is probably awake by now, too.

“They won’t mind. They all, umm, they all know about my crush on you anyway,” Dean confesses.

That is not something that really wants to compute for Cas, neither the part about a family just being okay with their son having a boyfriend, nor the part about Dean having a crush on him. Though they are boyfriends now. So that should have clued Cas in about the crush. But somehow Cas’ brain hasn’t caught up yet. So Cas just takes Dean’s hand and lets himself be dragged upstairs. 

Of course they don’t manage to get ready in the allotted 20 minutes. Mainly because in addition to the shy glances there are now also shy touches and once they’ve both brushed their teeth, also another shy kiss. And then another one. And another one. 

So by the time they actually make it downstairs, there is noise everywhere. The main part seems to come from the living room, so they steer there. 

Though they haven’t even made it a single step into the room when a chorus of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” greets them. 

Cas looks up, and yes, there’s a mistletoe prominently displayed in the door frame where there was only empty air this morning. 

There’s a lot of chuckling and hooting from the group of teenagers, and as if that wasn’t enough, now also a group of adults comes into the hallway from the kitchen, probably drawn by the ruckus. 

Dean looks at Cas and shrugs. 

Cas can feel the blood in his cheeks, probably making his face glow brightly, but really this is Dean’s family. It’s his call. So he shrugs as well and steps into Dean’s space. 

That makes Dean grin and suddenly there’s a firm grip around Cas’ his neck and his waist and he’s being dipped. Cas holds on to Dean’s neck with all of his might not to fall as Dean plants a big wet kiss on him. 

It’s obviously meant for show, and there is the expected amount of catcalls, only kissing is still new and exciting, and the kiss might have started out for show, but Dean rightens Cas without breaking the kiss and somehow Cas’ arms sling even tighter around Dean’s neck, and then Dean opens his lips and it feels wonderful and Dean tastes minty fresh from his toothpaste - and suddenly Cas becomes aware of the complete silence around them. He breaks the kiss, though only to hide his face in Dean’s neck with a helpless chuckle. Because this is  _ not  _ the first impression he wanted to make on the rest of Dean’s adopted family. 

Though of course the minute they’ve broken apart, there is one gigantic hoot from Sam. “Woo hoo! It happened! It’s a Christmas miracle! Woo hoo!” He starts dancing around the living room, effectively drawing the attention on himself and giving Cas and Dean a moment to recover. 

When Cas finally dares to look up, the first thing he sees is Ellen watching them quietly, a soft expression on her face. So apparently Sam didn’t draw all the attention. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Dean tries to calm down his brother. He takes Cas’ hand again, finally pulling him into the living room. “Maybe let me introduce everyone before you topple over the Christmas tree with your dance moves?”

“Spoilsport,” Sam says though his face is lit up in a bright smile.

Dean shakes his head, though he, too, is still smiling. “Everyone, this my  _ boyfriend  _ Cas. Cas, this the Christmas invasion. Claire. Kaia. Patience. Alex. Uhh, and,” he turns around towards the entrance where two new adults are now stationed, “Jody and Donna.”

“Nice ta meet ya!” The blonde woman named Donna smiles. 

When she wants to walk into the room, though, the other woman tugs on her arm and holds her back. She looks upwards with a significant look. 

It makes the blonde woman chuckle and then come back, putting her arm around the other woman’s waist and drawing her in for a soft kiss. It does not look like a kiss between friends. 

There’s some good-natured hollering from everyone, but no particular surprise that Cas can make out. Okay, so apparently this is a thing and one that everyone is aware of. 

Dean draws Cas down on the couch with him and for the next few hours, Cas gets regaled with stories from the Mills-Hanscum-household as well as from when Dean was still living here. 

It’s a bit overwhelming, this many new people. But they’re all friendly. At some point, Sam comes close to whisper at Dean, “Look at Claire. I think I know why she brought that mistletoe.”

Cas’ eyes find the fierce blonde as well. She’s currently sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying hard not to spill the hot cocoa she’s holding even while she’s laughing. She’s leaning into the quiet girl on the chair behind her, who is looking down at her with a gentle smile. 

“I swear, you’re a worse gossip than even Charlie,” Dean shakes his head at his brother. 

“I’m right, though,” Sam says smugly.

“Yeah, well, Charlie usually is, too,” Dean shrugs.  

Sam rolls his eyes, bumps his shoulder into his brother’s and then the talk moves on. 

After everyone’s done eating, they unpack the boardgames again, the grown-ups joining them for a round of UNO, and somehow it all feels so comfortable and natural, that Cas doesn’t even notice how fast the time passes until Ellen looks at her watch and says, “Alright, everyone. Clean up and get organised. It’s time for  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ .”

Everyone scuffles around on her command, cleaning up board games and empty plates, while Ellen and Donna make and bring in a new round of hot cocoa for everyone. Chairs and sofas get moved until they’re all looking at the TV and then there’s a flurry of movement and bitching as everyone tries to find a comfortable seating place to watch the movie. 

Dean seizes an armchair and unceremoniously pulls Cas down with him, never mind that Cas ends up sitting halfway on top of Dean. It takes a bit of negotiating until they’re both comfortable, but then it’s the best way Cas has ever watched a movie. He snuggles into Dean, his head coming to rest in the crook of Dean’s neck, Dean’s arm around him keeping him warm, and Cas thinks he’s probably never been this content in his whole life. 

It doesn’t take long after for his eyes to fall closed.


	10. Day 10

Dean’s contented to watch Cas sleep for a little while. Despite that Cas has managed to roll himself up in the blankets, the extra body heat is keeping Dean, well, mostly warm. It’s too early to wake Cas for the long day ahead. Dean had felt guilty enough doing it last night after the movie. He’d looked so peaceful, all cozy and snuggled into his shoulder. He’d just figured bed would be more comfortable. He didn’t remember much after Cas’ sleepy and mumbly protests, anyway. He must’ve fallen asleep pretty quickly, which says something in itself.

 _It’s weird_ , he can’t help but think, _how much everything has changed._

Well, not everything. He can already smell breakfast wafting in deliciously tempting scents up the stairs. There’s definitely bacon, and biscuits he thinks. There’s that, and, really, Cas hasn’t changed either. Half of his backpack is full of books that have all been opened at least once in the past couple of days, relationship change aside.

A smile curves Dean’s lips, and he can’t help but reach out and brush Castiel’s astoundingly wild hair out of his eyes.

_For the better. Things have changed for the better._

There are good things ahead for them, Dean is sure of it. Things to look forward to, that maybe hadn’t been there before in the same way. They’re things that’ve always been there that now exist differently, rejuvenated, and full of promise. Like, they’ll hold hands on that bench in the park where they sit and talk for hours. And, when they part, Dean’ll make sure to kiss Cas goodnight. And he won’t be ashamed, or hide, cause he’s the luckiest guy in the world and he’s gonna make damn sure that Cas knows that.

And then, oh man, and then there’ll be road trips. Sure, there’ll be Sioux Falls, and then to California when Sammy goes to Stanford, but the possibilities are endless. There’s the Doctor Sexy marathon (that he secretly hopes Cas will love as much as he does), and then, there’s even smaller things like music, and dates, and late nights spent together while doing their own thing - Cas grading papers, and Dean working on homework. Or, Dean bringing a coffee to Cas with a little cinnamon heart. He learned how to make them a long time ago, but the timing never seemed right. Now, they have all the time in the world.

He jumps a little, startling out of his thoughts, realizing Cas is looking at him, eyelids still half closed. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” Dean tries to recover with a grin.

“Dean,” Cas grumbles at the pet name, snuggling back into Dean’s shoulder.

“I know,” Dean says gently, snaking an arm around Cas to pull him in closer, before brushing his nose against Cas’, “I know it’s still early. But, we have a long trip ahead of us, and I think breakfast is almost ready.”

Cas doesn’t budge, and Dean can’t help but think of how cute he is when he’s grumpy in the morning.

“‘Sides, you stole all the blankets. ‘S a bit cold out here, think you could share?”

That at least seems to get acknowledgment. Castiel mumbles something incoherent, wrapping his arms around Dean, too. Cas’ eyes fly open as Dean’s cold legs graze against Cas’ very warm ones.

“Dean! You’re so cold.”

“So warm,” Dean purrs contently, this time being the one to cuddle up to Cas, who starts laughing.

“Noooo, you’re cold,” he protests, playfully pushing Dean away. The small bed doesn’t allow for much pushing, and the next thing Dean hears is a ‘thump’, and feels a dull pain in his hip. He’s looking up at Cas now, from the floor.

“Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

But Dean’s already laughing, cause his childhood bed isn’t really big, and in retrospect, he should’ve expected it.

“Your face!” Dean’s laughing harder. Cas looks so concerned, and surprised, and definitely awake.

It’s a full-bodied laugh from Dean now, and he feels tears at the corner of his eyes, and finally, Cas is laughing too, still red from embarrassment, before climbing out of bed to join him. Dean wraps two arms around him and pulls him down, and they laugh and shake in each other’s arms for a couple minutes. Dean can’t remember the last time he’s laughed until it hurt.

Laughing turns into kisses, interrupted by bursts of unfinished laughter, until they’re just kissing, and Dean seriously begins to doubt that they’ll make it back to campus on time. He’s oddly okay with that, although he could do with a bit of privacy away from the family, and he’s sure Cas has to get back to American History papers. Maybe he’ll take a history elective next semester so he understands a little more when Cas is geeking out. He’d like that. As long as it’s not one of Cas’ classes. Or…

Nope. Too distracting. And definitely, definitely inappropriate.

 

They’re packing before breakfast when Dean realizes that Cas’ mind is somewhere else. He thinks about letting it slide, until he realizes that Cas is about to open the wrong drawer.

“Hey, Earth to Cas,” he hurries, stepping in front of the drawer protectively, trying to pass his panic off as a joke again, “You here with me, sunshine?”

“Oh,” Cas answers, shaking himself out of it, “Yeah. Guess I’m not awake yet. Need coffee.”

“You sure that’s it?” Dean asks, reaching a little deeper.

Cas hesitates.

It occurs to Dean that maybe there’s stuff that Cas isn’t comfortable talking about yet. Things that haven’t come up. It makes sense, Cas always kept to himself with most people, but sometimes seeing him smile makes it hard to think that there might also be turmoil in his mind.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dean reassures, “But, I’m here.”

It makes Cas smile. He opens the correct drawer, “I really appreciate that, Dean.” he says, grabbing his pristinely folded clothes out of the drawer before putting them in his bag. “You don’t want to hear about my family, though.”

But Dean does. He wants to hear anything that Cas is willing to tell him. He wants to know Cas, and be involved and supportive, even if it means dealing with another shitty family. “I want to hear anything you’re comfortable telling me,” he responds, but doesn’t press it further.

He sits back on the bed, cause Cas is a little more quiet than usual. “I’m not going anywhere, Cas. I’m in it for the hard stuff, too. You know that, right?”

“Me too,” Cas says, and it’s scarcely above a whisper. “And you already know that that’s the truth.”

Dean nods. He knows that. He’s known that for a really long time, and for the first time, Dean feels like he might be ready to talk about it. Not yet, but one day soon. He really does know he’s safe with Cas, and that Cas is safe with him. It’s really kind of beautiful all the way around.

But there’s a reason John Winchester’s memory is confined to the drawer Cas’d been about to open. And it can stay there and rot for all Dean cares.

“You’re talking about the night at the cafe,” Dean guesses, a level of coldness creeping into his voice despite good intentions to be more open, because he’s already reacting to the memory. His brain is replacing happiness with doubt, and there’s fear of rejection, and discomfort, and hurt. And, Cas catches on.

“I’m talking about everything, Dean,” he says gently, “I won’t push you for anything you’re not ready to tell me. I just want you to know that you _can_ tell me. Anything. I am a safe space.”

Cas has known that there’s something off for so long, and so far, he’s been true to his word and hasn’t pushed. But it’s becoming very real in Dean’s mind that what they have now, the relationship that they want to build together, that that is gonna want to tear down that wall in Dean’s head.

And on the one hand, that scares him to hell and back, but on the other hand - he’s built walls because he’s used to people walking in and taking pieces of him without his permission, and leaving. And he doesn’t think that’s what Cas or their relationship is all about.

Dean nods, but his voice is hoarse when he answers, “I know that.”

Cas’ hand is warm and gentle when he cautiously takes Dean’s hand, “I know you do. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any negative feelings.”

Dean knows that, too. But one memory, one thought of John is all it takes. It’s gonna require a lot of effort to get to a place where he can talk about it. It’s gonna take even more to be okay with anyone seeing him without a painted smile, cracking jokes all the time. Anything else makes him feel weak, and vulnerable- a crack in the wall that could send the whole thing tumbling down.

But it isn’t the first time Cas’ seen him when he feels weak.

No one else knows that Dean gets panic attacks. Not Benny, or Garth or even Charlie. But Cas does.

“‘S okay,” Dean says, vaguely, not quite able to concentrate on Cas in the present, because now he really is thinking about it again. And he wants to be okay with it, wants to be able to talk about it like it’s no big deal, but it’s becoming obvious that he’s not there yet, no matter how much he trusts Cas, or how much he wants it to be okay.

Because now his mind’s back at the cafe on D&D night, years ago, when Cas was still the new guy. It’s one of his first memories of being close to Cas, and it’s not a good one.

He remembers his phone ringing. The game had been in full swing. The number’d been weird, it could’ve been anyone, Bobby or Sam. But, it hadn’t been. Of course it hadn’t been.

_“An inmate from Douglas County Jail is attempting to contact you. Would you like to accept these charges?”_

Even now, Dean’s stomach is turning into knots, his body growing cold at the thought of the call.  He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath which is all the warning Cas needs.

“What do you need right now, Dean?” Cas asks gently, “Do you want me to go get you some breakfast? Some water?” His voice is calm, and slow, soothing.

Dean’s hand is squeezing tighter on Cas’ almost instantly.

“Okay, I’ll stay right here,” Cas reassures, wrapping his arms gently around Dean and holding him, “Not going anywhere.”

He still can’t remember what his dad had said to him over the phone, he’s blocked it out, along with troubling thoughts like how he got Dean’s number. What he does remember is that it was Cas who found him after.

They weren’t incredibly close, then. There were no random visits to the coffee shop, no park bench. Cas was this shy, awkward and really cute guy that kept coming to D&D night, even after his friend Meg dropped out.

Dean had been in the dark alley behind the coffeeshop when Cas found him, tears burning and staining his cheeks- tears that made it worse cause they reminded him how his dad dealt with crying.

His throat’s burning even now remembering how hard he’d been crying. John Winchester, even in memory, has a way of inspiring those feelings- like he is still a child, trapped, helpless, weak, worthless. Dean’s tried so hard- _so hard_ \- to escape that, run from it, and his past has always knocked him right back down on his ass.

But Cas- Cas had sat there with him that night, just like he’s doing now.

And then, Cas had said something that no one had ever said to Dean before-

_“It’s okay, Dean. I’ve got you. You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to feel things. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t have to. You can, though, when you’re ready. With me or someone else. The important thing is that you’re here, and you’re going to be alright, okay?”_

It seems so long ago now. And so much has changed.

But Cas hasn’t. He can still read him like an open book when panic is close.

Dean knows it won’t get him out of talking. Not in the long run. But maybe, when that wall comes down, then maybe together they can build something beautiful over the debris- a new foundation.

He feels the panic begin to subside, and rests his head gently against Cas’ shoulder. It’s a silent ‘thank you’, acknowledging what they both know just happened without saying a word.

 

They’re running a few hours late by the time they’re loading up the car again with bittersweet goodbyes to be had all around. It’s always hard to say goodbye to Sam. It’s a habit that Dean hasn’t quite broken, being like a Father Hen to his little brother. It’s why they’re honestly better apart. Sammy’s good. He’s almost an adult sasquatch now, and next year, he’ll be having his own adventures. Dean’s excited to come and visit, hopefully with Cas in tow, and they can argue, and geek out, and spend time together. But then, like now, it’ll be time to go home.

Dean needs to be okay with that. Bobby and Ellen had him go through therapy for that. Even still, he feels it tug on his heartstrings to break away from Sam. “Don’t forget to enroll in those classes, okay? Get a head start, and keep doing well in school…”

Ellen’s giving him that look again. He’s learned to take his cues from her on when he’s going a bit overboard.

“I will, I will,” Sam promises. And, it stings Dean the tiniest little bit that Sam’s fine with saying goodbye.

An extra hug from Sam later, it’s Ellen’s turn. “Let us know you made it back safely, okay?” she asks, squeezing tight. She really does give good hugs, “And you do good in school too.”

“Yess’m-Ellen...” he corrects himself.

Bobby’s finished fueling the car with some spare from the garage. He shuts the trunk next, ceremoniously patting the trunk with his hand before looking at Dean.

“Well, don’t just stand there, y’idjit.” His arms are open to Dean, and Dean’s grinning as he steps into the hug. Bobby’s not his dad. Dean knows that. And there’s a line that his head’s made there- but, not a day goes by he wishes he wasn’t.

“Make sure he drives safe, Cas, okay?” Bobby says, bringing Cas into the hug, which appears to have Castiel a bit surprised before he accepts the affection. The thought that the Novak household doesn’t hug makes Dean sad. Cas deserves love and affection.

“Okay, I will. It was nice to meet you,” he says, “All of you. Thank you for having me.”

“None of that, you’re welcome any time, honey,” Ellen promises, hugging Cas after Bobby’s finished, "We're all one big patchwork family here and you've got a space if you want it."

Dean’s heart swells, and he shoots Ellen a grateful and heartfelt look that he hopes she reads as a million thank yous. It’s the best thing she could say to Cas, circumstances being what they are.

They load in the car, and Dean rolls the windows down, cause he’s still saying goodbye to Jo, and Sam’s coming around the other side to Cas.

“You hurt my brother, I’ll end you,” Sam says simply.

“Sammy,” Dean growls, turning away from Jo, getting a bit protective.

“Comes with the territory,” Jo shrugs, agreeing with Sam, “We take care of our own.”

Dean groans, “You too?”

“Yep, me too,” she leans in the window, kissing Dean’s cheek, “Don’t drive like an asshole. Bye, Cas.”

“Bye, Jo,” Castiel waves, before turning back to Sam, “I won’t.”

“Good,” Sam replies, accepting the answer before handing Cas the Hamilton CD.

“It’s okay, you keep it. It’s on my iTunes, and I have the feeling I’ll have had enough of Hamilton by the time I get through these essays.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Cas smiles.

“Cool, thanks! Hey Dean, don’t hurt Cas,” Sam teases, poking his tongue out.

Dean rolls his eyes, “Get your head out of the window before I roll it up.”

“Someone didn’t have his coffee this morning,” Sam grumbles, “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

 

It’s a miracle that five minutes later, they’re bumping and thumping down the gravel driveway, windows rolled up, the car finally starting to heat up.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean starts before he gets the music rolling, “Got any plans for New Year?”

“The American Revolution?” Cas tries.

“Yeah, I guess you didn’t get much grading done over break, did you?”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head matter-of-factly.

“Gonna be cooped up in your office?”

“Most definitely.”

“Think you might make some time in that busy schedule of yours for one of those actual...y’know,” Dean says, feeling himself getting flustered again, “Date...things…cause, New Year and fireworks, and..”

“Dean,” Castiel blushes, cutting off Dean’s nervous rambling before reaching across the console to hold his hand, “I think I can squeeze you in.”


	11. Epilogue Day 1 - Dec 31st

It’s not the first time that they’ve seen each other since Christmas. Of course it’s not. Cas has been visiting Dean at the coffee shop, Dean graciously allowing him to tip him after all - if only in kisses. And Dean’s come by Cas’ office, bringing with him warmth and laughter and fingerless gloves for Cas since Cas has still not permitted him to get an actual space heater for him. 

But today is special. Because it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s their very first official date. 

Cas nervously picks at the button-down he’s chosen. He has no idea whether it’s right for the occasion since Dean has refused to tell him what they are going to do. All he’s said is to be at his place at 8. 

Well, at the very least Cas is pretty sure that the gift he’s brought is going to be received well. With a last tug on his shirt, Cas finally gets up his courage and knocks on the door of Dean’s room. 

“Cas! You’re early! Oh my God, what is this? Is this pie?”

Cas chuckles at his boyfriend’s -  _ boyfriend’s! _ \- baked-goods-based enthusiasm and holds out the box to Dean. 

“This is from - Cas! This is from the  _ good  _ bakery! From the expensive one!” 

“Because they make the best pies. And this is an occasion for the best pie. Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, of course, sorry.” 

Dean steps aside to let Cas in and, “Dean!” 

Dean chuckles again, his voice full of pride when he says, “Do you like it?”

“I love it!” Cas says without any hesitation.

There’s a checkered blanket covering the empty half of Dean’s room where by all rights his roommate’s bed should be. On the blanket is a veritable mountain of food neatly organized on several plates. There are pillows stacked on the blanket, and fairylights that Cas doesn’t remember being in Dean’s room the last time he was here for a D&D session twinkle softly around the impromptu picnic space. 

“It’s beautiful!” Cas says overwhelmed. 

Dean smiles, still proud, but also a little shy now. “Glad you like it,” he murmurs. “I thought - we kind of always have other people around us, so I wanted us to have some time just for us, you know? And I can’t cook anything real for you because, well, no kitchen, but Charlie has this fondue pot and she lent it to me and - uhh, she says Hi by the way. Or I think that’s what she said. She was a tiny bit excited.”

“You told her about us,” Cas deducts. 

Dean nods. “I hope that was okay? Cause there was squealing. It’s too late to take it back now.”

Cas chuckles. He can imagine that. “It’s fine, Dean.” He steps into Dean’s space and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek to prove his words. 

Of course he should have expected it when Dean puts the pie down on the bed and his hand comes up around Cas’ waist to draw him in closer. “Okay?” Dean asks. 

“Very much,” Cas confirms, his hand already coming up around Dean’s neck. 

The kiss is soft and gentle, and Dean tastes a little bit like coffee and he’s so warm everywhere that Cas can’t resist to sling his arms around Dean to hold him tighter until they’re pressed together. 

Dean laughs and kisses the tip of Cas’ nose. “Cold”, he observes. 

“Hmpf,” Cas answers and buries his cold nose in Dean’s neck. 

That makes Dean laugh even more. “I think I’m going to have to stock up on blankets.”

“No,” Cas disagrees. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah, okay, octopus, we can do this at night, but now there’s food and then pie.”

“Pie is food, Dean.”

“Pie is more than just food,” Dean disagrees. “Pie is  _ essential _ .”

It’s only then that the  _ at night _ that Dean had snuck in there catches up to Cas. “Dean?” he asks. 

“Hmm?”

“Am I staying overnight?”

“Uhh,” Dean’s eyes turn wide.

“Because you said…”

“Yeah. Yeah, I, umm, know what I said,” Dean blushes. “I’d - I’d not be against it? If you wanted to stay, I mean. But you don’t have to. And if you stay, we don’t need to, you know.”

“Dean,” Cas puts a hand on Dean’s arm because Dean is rambling again and that means Dean is nervous as Cas has rapidly figured out in the past week. 

“Uhh, sorry,” Dean grimaces.

Dean feeling bad is not what Cas wanted. “I’m going to octopus snuggle and I’ll probably hog the blankets again because I’m not used to sharing. Consider yourself warned,” he says mock-sternly.

Immediately, Dean’s smile is back. “Warning understood and accepted. And hey look,” he takes Cas’ hand and drags him over to the picnic set-up where a crocheted blanket lies folded neatly next to the pillows. “An extra blanket just for you. So that you’re guaranteed not to freeze tonight.”

It’s a little teasing but it’s also incredibly sweet, so there can’t be any other reaction to it then pulling Dean back in for another kiss. 

 

They end up snuggled into the blanket together after dinner, propped up on pillows and cuddled up closely so that they can watch Dr. Sexy on Dean’s laptop. It’s cozy and warm and Cas could totally fall asleep like this. He won’t, though, because Dean is extremely enthusiastic about explaining all the details that Cas misses because “it’s your first time watching, Cas” with many gestures that make Dean a very mobile and thus not very comfortable pillow. 

Then suddenly Dean takes a look at the clock and, “Shit. Cas, we gotta get going! It’s only twenty minutes to midnight!” 

“Huh? Go where?”

“To my lookout spot! For the fireworks!” Dean says and is already moving. 

Cas stretches lazily like a cat and yawns. “We don’t have to, Dean. I’m fine staying here with you.”

Dean freezes in the middle of stacking together their plates to clean them away. When he turns back to Cas, his face is blank. “You don’t want to go?” 

The tone is completely neutral as well. It wakes Cas up faster than any espresso at the coffee shop. He sits up straight. “What’s wrong?”

For a long moment, nothing happens. Dean just looks at him and Cas looks back. He’s not sure though that Dean actually sees him. Dean may be staring right through him. 

“Please, Dean? Tell me what’s wrong?”

A shudder goes through Dean’s whole body and his eyes focus back on Cas, the carefully blank expression replaced by a frown. “I can - I can tell you on the way? If you want to go and if you really want to know.”

“Yes. And yes,” Cas agrees to both conditions. 

They clean up in silence, bumping into each other every so often, shoulders rubbing a little longer than necessary, hands squeezing. They get dressed for the cold in the same silence. Dean offers his hand when they leave the room and Cas takes it. 

There aren’t that many people out and about on campus, most everyone being at one party or another. Still, with the laughter and music coming from different buildings, their own silence only gets louder.

The Impala is parked not too far away, and they have to let go of each other to climb in. Cas doesn’t like letting go of Dean, but he also doesn’t try to touch Dean again when they’re inside. The way Dean holds onto the steering wheel for a long moment, taking a few breaths before even starting the car tells him that right now the touch of the Impala is more comforting than what Cas can offer. 

Finally, with another deep breath, Dean revs the engine. The Impala rumbles to life, the deep bass of the engine like the very loud purr of a cat. Neither of them turns on the radio and for the first few miles, the soothing rumble of the Impala is the only sound in the car. 

“I’ve always loved fireworks. Ever since I was little. Or maybe I started loving them because Sammy loved them so much. I don’t know.” They’re already out of the main town, driving towards the hill that overlooks the city, when Dean finally talks. “But he hated them. My Dad. I dunno. He never explained. Something about ‘Nam I guess.”

Cas turns to look at Dean but Dean’s eyes are on the road. 

“One year, Sam begged me to get a few of our own. We hadn’t ever done that before and he wanted it so much. They were the cheap kind. Handheld little things. But they were still beautiful. Sammy was so excited. _Look, Dean, they sparkle!_ _Look how bright they are!_ It was July 4th, not New Year’s Eve and it was warm out and -,” Dean breaks off. “Anyway, Dad found us. Dad never made it through July 4th without being drunk. He didn’t make it through very many days without being drunk...“

They’ve made it to the top of the hill. There are no other cars in the small parking lot where the hiking route starts. 

Dean turns off the engine and turns around to Cas. It’s too dark in the car to see his features well. “They tell me he doesn’t do that anymore. That he’s sober now.”

“They?” Cas asks.

“His defense attorneys, mostly. He’s gone through a few of them.” Dean takes another deep breath. “My Dad’s in prison, Cas. Is never coming back out, either, no matter how many defense attorneys he goes through.”

“Because of something he did to you?” 

Dean laughs a hollow laugh. “No. No, not because of any of that shit. He finally snapped when I was 17. Killed someone. Not even in a bar fight, where it would have been in the heat of the moment. No, it was premeditated and everything. That’s what they got him for.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Don’t be,” Dean shakes his head. “The police getting him was the best thing that could have happened. Especially for Sam.”

“Dean,” and now Cas takes Dean’s hand after all, because Dean has started shaking. He squeezes his hand. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry you had to deal with all of this. Still, have to deal with all of this.” Because somehow Cas is sure that Sam is not getting any of that communication with the lawyers. 

“Yeah, well, I’m kinda - I’m kinda used to it. To dealing with it. Not to talking about it, obviously.”

And yeah, Cas knows that. Had always known that. That there was something in Dean’s past that gives him terrible nightmares that he laughs off even when the bags under his eyes turn purple from lack of sleep. That gives him panic attacks that he pretends never happened. But then, even back then, even all the way in the beginning, when they had hardly known each other, Dean had let him in. Only for that moment, maybe, but it had been enough. Enough to see that there are other parts of Dean hidden behind the ones he thinks are more palatable for general consumption. Cas wants to know them all. 

“Thank you,” he whispers and keeps holding onto Dean’s hand. “Thank you for telling me. I love you.”


	12. Epilogue Day 2 - Jan 1st

Dean’s too stunned by the words to realize that it’s three minutes past midnight. Everything else escapes him entirely until he hears crackles and pops and booms that seconds later explode into fiery bright colors and then smoke.

It’s a lot to process. Cause, all of the words Cas could have, and maybe even should have said were certainly not ‘thank you for telling me’ followed by ‘I love you’.

He’s got memories swirling around in his brain that have dredged themselves to the surface. Cause, when he talks about John Winchester, it’s never just one story. It’s everything. It’s keeping baby Sammy quiet, it’s weeks where Dean’s not sure if they’re gonna eat, and it’s the times where he didn’t eat. It’s almost liking those scenarios better than when Dad was actually home. Cause anything, anything was better than that.

He’s used to the looks of pity. They followed him from Lawrence to Sioux Falls. Hell, he’s even used to people looking at him like he’s gonna end up just like his dad. He’s used to the whispers, and the way people have always judged him before learning the first thing about him. And, more importantly, when they found out and the words were ‘oh, honey, that’s awful’, or they treated him like a kicked puppy. He’s never liked being confined by those ideas.

Never - _ Never _ \- has it been ‘Thank you for telling me. I love you.’

Cas is the first person who  _ sees _ him. Not what’s happened, not what he’s had to do to survive - him.

And now the memories are being shrouded in the shadow of something else. Something that’s finally, beautifully, gloriously his. Love. Real, honest-to-God love from someone who’s seen him at his best, but also at his worst and can still say ‘I love you’.

That starts the tears. Dean’s always hated crying, cause feelings are one thing buried deep and confined before being let out in the comfort of his own room with the radio loud. They’re a different thing altogether out in the open, they’ve always made him feel weak, and vulnerable. It’s not a side of himself that he wants anyone to see.

Dean doesn’t realize how tightly he’s grasping onto Castiel’s hand until then, but Cas at least doesn’t appear to mind. It’s almost like he’s holding onto him for dear life, saying ‘please, don’t let go’. It’s overwhelming, and it’s a little scary because the only other person in his life he couldn’t stand to lose is Sammy. 

And so, he’s more than a little vulnerable, but so is Cas, who just told him he loved him. He meets him halfway.

“You…” Dean starts, and can’t finished because he’s feeling so many things all at once, and Cas is so beautiful lit up with the colors in the sky- first green and blue, and then pink and orange. 

“Dean,” Cas continues, a gentle smile forming, reassuringly as he cups Dean’s cheeks, “You aren’t what happened to you. You’re so much more than that.”

And then Dean’s crying a little more even though he’s trying to stop so he can say something back, salty tears running over Castiel’s fingertips before he uses them to wipe them away.

“You’re your own person. You’re not your father.”

The tears aren’t stopping. Cause it’s everything Dean’s needed to hear for years. And they aren’t just pretty words. Cas sounds so practical and sure. Bobby and Ellen have done their best, and they’re better than he deserves, and Sammy loves him. Dean can’t question that. But this is different. This time, he believes it. He doesn’t feel like he has to hold onto Cas like a vice. Because Cas can’t be taken. He can willingly go, but Dean has a sneaking suspicion he won’t, not so long as they’re good to each other. And Dean’s gonna be so good to Cas. And now, he needs Cas to hear something too.

He finds his voice amidst his throat constricting, trying to force away the tears, “You too.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not your family either.” There’s a pause, and Dean guesses that Cas probably didn’t think it would go here, so he tries to lighten it with a bit of dry, dark humor “I guess we both kinda have fucked up families, huh?”

“Hmm,” Cas agrees thoughtfully.

“Except Sammy,” Dean’s quick to add.

“I guess Gabriel isn’t too bad, either,” Cas says. “You’ll meet him someday soon, I hope.”

“I’d like that,” Dean says sincerely, “But, I mean it Cas. Your family doing what they did. It’s not right. And it’s their fuck up, not yours.”

Cas smiles, and it’s a little bittersweet, and Dean gets the feeling the wound may still be too fresh. But, that’s okay. Because he knows it’s not that Cas doesn’t trust him, it’s just that he can’t deal with the pain yet. Dean’s been there too, and he’ll be there for Cas whatever comes, whether it’s holding him in the alley like Cas did for him, or giving him space, or pulling him closer- whatever it is that he needs. 

Then it dawns on Dean that he’s forgotten one very important detail. His eyes widen, and that nervous blush and smile is back.

“Uh oh,” Cas teases. Dean’s glad to see a smile back on his face. 

“What?”

“I know that look. It means trouble.”

“Only the good kind, I promise,” Dean says, holding a hand up and swearing by it before he gently kisses Cas’ lips, “Cas?”

“Mhm?” Castiel says, already leaning in.

“I love you, too.” 

They’re still kissing when the grand finale of fireworks begin, littering the sky with explosions of the most brilliant colors, ringing in what Dean thinks will be one of the best years of his life, at least so far. Cas is warm in his arms, and he’s beautiful, and he exists. He exists in the same world at the same time and place as Dean, and they’ve got so much ahead of them and that alone is incredible. 

As Dean’s holding Cas close, finally breaking to stare up at the sky, he can’t help but to think to himself that maybe, just maybe, good things really do happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all: Have a Happy New Year's and a very Happy New Year everyone! May it be a good one! <3
> 
> Second of all: Let's have a little informal poll: Would you like to see more of this verse? If so, what would you like to see? :D We have enjoyed writing together and will quite likely bring another cooperation to you at some point. Whether set in this verse or another one, we'll see. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays to all of you, and if we’re giving you pining pinetree and merry mistletoe feelings, you know what to do: feed us with crunchy Christmas comments!


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